Summer School
by Paulternative
Summary: Their first year at Beacon is complete, and summer is breaking teams apart. Some students will come back changed, none more than Jaune Arc. Training with a mysterious figure he refuses to name, Jaune has added to his arsenal as a huntsman, and a person. It remains to be seen what he will do with these new weapons. Canon through V2, character elements through V6 and After The Fall.
1. Points of Departure

**Chapter 1**

**Points of Departure**

Jaune Arc sighed softly, dropping Crocea Mors onto his belt, adjusted his armor over his hoodie, and shut his locker with a soft metallic _click_. Picking up his backpack from the bench behind him, the first-year student began walking towards the locker room exit, heart filled with conflicting emotions. He was going to miss them. All of his fellow students. Well, maybe not _all_ of them, he thought, as Russell Thrush and Dove Bronzewing walked past him with an air of faint contempt. Certainly his team at the very least, and their across-the-hall neighbors as well.

He was also headed…_home?_ He still hadn't figured that part out yet. He knew they'd be proud of him regardless, but somehow it didn't feel right. Too many questions to answer. He'd confessed his crimes to Pyrrha, and inadvertently to Cardin Winchester, but he knew that any excuse he made in person to his mother would evaporate like a fart in the wind. Besides, he still needed to play catchup with the rest of his classmates before their second year at Beacon began. Training was definitely on the agenda, but he hadn't nailed down anything concrete in that regard. Pyrrha had offered, naturally, but traveling to Argus was another can of worms entirely. Not for the prospect of meeting his partner's family, but rather the very awkward time he'd spent over winter break with his sister and her new wife.

It didn't help that he felt responsible for holding Pyrrha back, either. She was here to learn just like him, and there was no way in hell that their sessions were benefitting anyone _but_ him.

But at the end of the day, his heart was filled with at least a small measure of pride. He'd done it. _They'd_ done it. Their first year at Beacon was in the books. Final exams completed, grades marked, certificates filed, summer reading lists passed out. That last one was something which he…wasn't looking forward to, if he was being honest with himself. For the next few days, though, Jaune was looking forward to just relaxing…_somewhere._

The halls of Beacon were full of students moving about, much like him, engaged in disengaging themselves from the school that had occupied their lives for the last eight months. Teams were gathered here and there, scrolls snapping pictures left and right, especially for the graduating upperclassmen. Robes and mortarboards were the consensus uniform for them, along with exuberance and contagious smiles. That was the goal, he thought. Make it through and then on to the license exam, and then a career as a full-fledged huntsman. He had at least a little hope now, and for that, he allowed himself a small measure of joy.

"Whatcha smilin' 'bout, Ladies' Man?"

Aaaaand it's gone.

"Just thinking about the future, Yang." Jaune answered, doing his best not to rise to the bait and make it three times worse. She'd definitely gotten bolder over the year in regards to teasing him, like it was some sort of challenge to her to get him blushing. Not that it was particularly difficult, but he was definitely getting a thicker hide out of it. "Speaking of, I assume you're headed home for the summer?" he asked as they exited out into the quad.

"Yeah, spend some time on the beach here, party there. The usual," she answered with a shrug. "Thankfully, a full school year of combat training kept my beach bod intact, plus that new string bikini…" she trailed off, favoring him with a lilac-tinted wink. "Should be fun with all the rich tourist boys at least. Or girls, take your pick," she added hastily.

"I didn't know…" Jaune stammered, giving the busty blonde what she'd been after in the first place.

"I'm flexible," she added nonchalantly, shrugging before resting her right forearm on his broad shoulder. "So what about you? Heading home to go hang out with some farm animal and pretend she's your girlfriend for the summer?"

"Yang," Jaune said flatly, beginning to reach his breaking point.

"Oh, Bessie, I've missed you so! Forgive me for ever leaving you!" she continued, raising the back of her left hand to her forehead to enhance the melodrama steeped in her voice.

"Really?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, lighten up," she said, clearly disappointed that he wasn't playing along with her. Getting a stone-faced Arc in response, she shoved off of him with an exasperated sigh. "_Fine,"_ she added, in that universal female tone that indicated she most certainly _wasn't_, complete with eye roll. Well, if he was being honest, she _was_ fine but not like…

Damn it, how did she always get to him like this?

"But seriously, you heading somewhere _cool_ for summer?" Yang asked, breaking his potentially dangerous train of thought.

"Like you would admit anything about me is cool." Jaune replied, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"No, _literally_, Vomit Boy," she prodded.

Jaune let that statement hang in the air for a very awkward pause before he realized what she was insinuating. "Oh! Oh, no. I _hate_ snow."

"So you and Weiss…"

"Friends. Not close, but friends," he said with only the barest trace of regret. Clearing the air between the two of them had been perhaps one of the most harrowing experiences of his life that didn't include some type of Grimm, but thankfully it had ended well. "Besides, she's interested in Neptune anyway."

"Yeah, but they're gone now," Yang added helpfully. "Now's your chance, loverboy."

"It's not like that, Yang. Seriously, just let it go," he added, more for Weiss' sake than his own. If Yang was this brutal with him, her picking on the Ice Queen would be something to behold.

"I mean it, SSSN headed back to Haven yesterday."

"I thought I heard they were transferring here for senior year?" Jaune replied, loath to indulge in the Beacon gossip mill unless absolutely necessary.

"Nah, Sage is from Mistral proper, and his mother's real sick. Neptune refused to break up the team. Kinda sounds like she's the team mom."

"Bummer." _Quite the wit, there, Jaune_. "But regardless, I think I've got better things to do with my days than chase after the Ice Queen."

"Like not sucking so bad?" Yang quipped drily.

"Among other things, yes."

"You know what _I_ think?" she asked conspiratorially.

"Preeeeeeetty sure you're about to tell me," Jaune said suspiciously, getting a smirk from Yang. The boy was learning after all, it seemed.

"_I_ think you've got your eye on someone else."

"_I_ think you're barking up the wrong tree."

"You calling me a dog?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ehhh, if the shoe fits…" Jaune trailed off with a shrug, getting a none-too-subtle elbow in the ribs which his armor thankfully blunted. Mostly.

"Come _onnnnn_, Jaune. You can tell me. There's plenty of eligible girls at Beacon. Or guys, I'm not judging you. Ren _is_ pretty hot, if I'm being honest," she continued, relentless in her pursuit of getting a rise out of the boy.

"Yang!" he hissed through gritted teeth, voice barely above a whisper. "You voice that sentiment anywhere near Nora and we're _both_ dead," he added _sotto voce_. "Seriously, I'm not looking for a girlfriend right now."

"_Pretty sure one's looking for you,_" she mumbled under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," she fired back quickly with as innocent a smile as a berserker could manage. "Anyway, I can help, if you'd like."

"That's what Saphron keeps telling me."

"Which sister is that again?"

"Oldest. And no, I'm not going all the way to Argus for her to set me up with someone," Jaune added, clearly getting the same treatment from her via the CCNet.

"Seriously though, who've you got those pretty blue eyes of yours on?"

"So, you think my eyes are pretty?" he asked, almost…_flirting_? Yang cocked an eyebrow at his tone before continuing.

"Don't change the subject," she countered. "Now tell me, oh slayer of song, because you're not getting out of this. If you knew you had a chance, with _any one_ girl in this school, who would it be? I'm genuinely curious at this point," she added in as innocent a tone she could muster, draping an arm across his broad shoulders.

"Yang," he said, imploring her to drop the subject, and failing miserably.

"Way out of your league, stud, but points for ambition," she quipped easily, getting a soft glower from the boy.

"Oh come on, Dork Knight."

_That's a new one._

"Every boy, every girl too, has that one special someone they think about, late at night," she began dreamily, her lips creeping closer to his ear.

_Need to get out of this._

"The one face that haunts their dreams. The one you'd kill to get a glimpse of in the shower," she added, leaning in close enough that Jaune could feel her breath on his neck now.

_Too much, Yang._

"Suds slowly sliding off their smooth skin,"

_Brothers help me._

"Wandering where you wish your hands could," she continued, voice a husky whisper now. Blue eyes cast about anxiously, looking for a lifeline, someone to rescue him from his torture, before he finally spotted help in the crowd. "So who…"

"Ruby!" he yelped, his voice cracking and gurgling a bit in his desperation. Or maybe that was just the forearm now crushing his larynx.

"Hey Jaune!" she called back, speedily closing the distance between them as only she could. "Whatcha doin', Yang?" Ruby asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised.

"Just giving Vomit Boy here a goodbye hug," she replied, smiling cheerfully.

"It looks like you're choking him," she stated flatly.

"Nah, he'd'a said something if he was!" Yang replied cheerily, planting a fist none-too-gently into the side of his ribcage.

"I don't think he can breathe, Yang," the younger sister clarified, her voice dipping into slightly peeved tones.

"You sure?"

"He's turning purple," Ruby added, now _definitely_ annoyed.

Yang afforded her victim a brief sidelong glance. "It's a good color for him. See?" she offered, hoping her little sister would drop the subject. Unsuccessfully, it would seem.

"Yang Xiao Long, you let him go this _instant_!" she shouted at the blond brawler, the closest Yang had seen to Ruby being actually _angry_ in quite some time.

Not that she was going to give in to her precious little snowflake of a sister.

"Or…" she replied, challenging her team leader.

"_Or_," Ruby began, lips curling into a wickedly mischievous grin, "I'll tell Dad about your new swimsuit."

Yang's eyes blinked twice in a panic before she spoke, softly now. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," Ruby replied, brow furrowed and a slight, determined frown curling her lips. Those silver eyes held an intensity that reminded Yang of Summer, on the few occasions when her stepmother actually had to crack the whip at her.

"Fine," she relented, quickly releasing Jaune and allowing him to collapse messily at her feet, gasping for air like a landed fish.

"You okay, Jaune?" Ruby asked, helping him to a seated position.

"I'll live," he croaked.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" she angrily demanded of her older sister.

"I'm just messing with him, like I _always_ do."

"You misspelled _assaulting,_" Ruby corrected her, getting an eye roll from Yang. "Do I need to remind you that if it wasn't for him finding his semblance when he did, _I wouldn't be here?!_" she added, clearly not backing down.

Yang's posture visibly wilted at that, averting her gaze from her sister. "I try not to think about that day, sis," she said softly. Sadly, she wasn't the only member of the student body who felt that way. Daring to glance up, she caught Ruby absently scratching at her chest, near the top of her sternum. Yang grimaced, remembering the two fresh, parallel scars there, less than an inch long, but matching the much worse entry wounds in her back, put there by a desperate Emerald Sustrai during what the press were calling the Battle of Beacon.

The student body was still trying to move on from that whole mess. The Vytal Festival three weeks later had certainly helped lift spirits, even with the somber mood and mourning bands worn by every competitor. Answers were in short supply, as the staff had been deeply involved with trying to keep their students focused on their studies above all else. If mentioned, they had discussed it in the abstract, as an example of the necessity and price of vigilance above all else. Still, that price could be steep, and everyone had gotten a cold reminder of that fact.

"Ruby?" Jaune asked, hoping to keep his friends from fighting any further.

"Yeah?"

"It's okay, I promise," he said neutrally, the faintest hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he rose to his feet.

"Yeah, listen to your boyfriend," Yang cut in, trying to lighten the tone.

_At least she's shifted her point of aim._

"He's not my boyfriend!" she screamed, drawing the attention of everyone within a hundred yards for a moment before they returned to their lives. Ruby's face blended perfectly with her cloak for several seconds before she slowly regained her composure. "He's more like the sister I never had," she said firmly.

"What?" Jaune blurted, already dreading the answer.

"Don't you mean _brother_?" Yang asked suspiciously.

"I already have a brother." Ruby declared matter-of-factly. "You know, loves dad jokes."

"Excuse me? I'm hilarious."

"Yeah, whatever. Belches at the table."

"That's a sign of appreciation in Mistral."

"The entire alphabet?"

"Gifts like mine are meant to be used."

"Unhealthy obsession with punching things."

"Fair." Yang shrugged.

"Whereas my _sister_ has fine table manners, impeccable fashion sense, offers caring, loving support,"

"Hey!" Yang protested at that last one.

"_And_ has the legs to pull off that white dress."

"Umm," Jaune fumbled.

"Got me there, Jaune boy." Yang admitted with a smirk.

"Joy," he replied darkly.

"So what're you doing for summer, Jaune?" Ruby asked as they began walking again, getting the conversation back on track, or trying to anyway.

"Spending lots of time with Bessie, probably," Yang chimed in, drawing a glare from the blonde swordsman.

"Who?"

"You don't wanna know," Jaune opined.

"Your competition, Ruby," Yang insisted.

"What?"

"You didn't know? Playboy Jaune's got a girl back home, _and_ you here at Beacon."

"Not. _My. __**Boyfriend!**_" Ruby growled through clenched teeth.

The third party to the sisters' tiff fell silent, tuning them out as best he could, still reeling a bit from Yang's earlier verbal (and physical) assault.

He spied a small group of students was in their path, gathered around two in particular; Pyrrha Nikos, resplendent in her full battle gear, and a tall, muscular girl with straight, platinum blonde hair reaching the middle of her back. Her skin was deeply tanned, product of a lifetime under the Vacuan sun, eyes a sparkling shade of topaz. A simple brown leather jerkin covered the upper half of her torso, tooled with intricate tribal designs, covering a halter top in a pale cream color. Dark blue shorts had hems just above her kneecaps, with a wide girdle-style belt almost concealing her abdomen. A pair of brutally spiked cesti, appropriately named Pain and Suffering, were connected by a short chain, dangling over her chest from the back of her neck. She was a whipcord-taut example of a young huntress in her prime, as evidenced by the diamond-shaped gold medal likewise hung from her neck, denoting her status as a Vytal Festival Tournament champion.

"Hey, Yang?" Jaune asked, fighting back a grin.

"What?" he got in response, interrupting a doubtlessly vicious noogie about to be delivered onto the scalp of a now-headlocked Ruby Rose.

"I never gave you an answer to your question from earlier," he said warmly, finally having an angle to get back at Yang.

"Which one?"

"Something about a shower?" Jaune continued, leading her into the trap.

"Oh, _really_? Well, I'm all ears," a distracted Yang said, not relinquishing her hold even as Jaune leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"_Sable Carter,_" he hissed, barely avoiding giggling at Yang as she turned on him with eyes wide, irises a vivid blood red now as he grinned like a maniac.

"_Fuck. You._" Yang growled through gritted teeth.

"Language!" came the muffled, but clearly irritated, voice of her younger sister.

"I mean, I _do_ love bronze on a woman. Just not the kind you win in the _consolation round,_" Jaune added offhandedly, enjoying the thrill of flirting with death for some strange reason.

Yang wheeled on him, dropping Ruby before slamming a fist into her open palm with the sound of a thunderclap. "Maybe Ruby can _console_ your parents at your _funeral,_" she said with a malicious grin, eliciting a nervous chuckle from the object of her ire. Before she could make good on the many ways she was pondering to beat him into a fine paste, a massive, bronzed hand clapped down on her shoulder.

"Yang Xiao Long! A girl after my own heart!" came Sable's boisterous voice from behind her. Yang's eyes became narrow slits, conveying that Jaune was nowhere near off the hook before she turned around.

"Hey, Sabes," she said, sounding a little dejected.

"Don't you be getting down on me, girl," she said with the magnanimity only a winner could muster. "You were a hell of an opponent, I ain't gonna lie. You just got a little…" she trailed off, looking for the most diplomatic word she could find, "…predictable," Sable finally settled on.

Yang rolled her eyes in exasperation. "_Ugh._ You sound just like my _Dad,_" she groaned.

"Huntsman?"

"One of the best," Yang conceded. "Back in the day, anyway."

"Then I'll take it as a compliment," Sable added. "If I hadn't seen your semblance in action in the previous rounds, you probably would have taken me by surprise."

"_That's_ reassuring," Yang replied glumly. "About as reassuring as watching your opponent literally _vanish_ right in front of you before beating you into the ground."

"Semblance. Can't help it. As a kid I wanted nothing more than to be invisible. Comes with being six foot three when you're twelve," she added, shrugging her massive shoulders. "If it's any consolation, you were the first person all tournament I had to use it on. Plus I've got three years on you. Still can't believe you Beacon guys got two first years into the semis."

"We're just that awesome!" Ruby piped up helpfully, garnering a chuckle from Sable.

"Damn straight, girl," Sable replied with a smile, bumping the younger girl's comparatively tiny fist.

"Hello, everyone!" Pyrrha piped up, getting a chorus of 'heys' in response, before she took up station next to her partner, an identical silver medal glinting in the sun against her cuirass.

"And _you_…" Sable added, pointing a finger directly at Pyrrha. "Red, if I had figured out your semblance ten _seconds_ later than I did, you'd have eaten my lunch."

"It _was_ a close call," Pyrrha concurred with her typical humility.

"But did you have to launch my boys into the cheap seats? Took an _hour_ for security to find them," she asked, a pale eyebrow raised accusingly as she patted her weapons affectionately.

"I didn't realize you weren't wearing them anymore," Pyrrha conceded.

"Fair point. Anyway, my team's waiting on me," she began, turning to leave before she stopped and faced the group again. "Yang, Pyrrha? You two are gonna go far, mark my words. I look forward to watching you two square off in two years. I can only hope it's in the finals. John? Ruby?" she asked tentatively, hoping she got the names right, or close enough at least. "Don't you let these two slack off one bit. Or I'll come looking for you," she added mostly in jest.

"Yes ma'am!" Ruby replied exuberantly. "Yang! Drop and give me twenty!" she barked at her sister, who looked at her with droll, half-lidded eyes. The blonde sister shifted her gaze to Sable, who had an eyebrow cocked in amusement, trying her best to contain herself before the dam broke and she fell into a fit of hysterical laughter. This turned out to be virulently contagious, and soon everyone was joining in, save for Ruby, who was fuming at these people who were flouting her authority.

"You guys take care, okay?" Sable asked, before finally moving down the main walkway and out of their view.

"She really is something, isn't she?" Pyrrha asked with only the barest hint of bitterness.

"I'll say. Jaune was practically drooling over her just now," Yang contributed cheerfully.

"I…see," she replied hesitantly.

"She's just messing with me," Jaune reassured his partner.

"I surmised," she replied, favoring everyone with that soft, genuine smile that she only gave to her closest friends. "Can I borrow Jaune for a moment?"

"As many as you want, Red," Yang fired back easily, giving a quick wink. "We need to get going anyway. Come on, Rubes, we're gonna miss our flight."

Without another word, the youngest of the group darted forward, scooping Jaune and Pyrrha both into a hug. "I'm gonna miss you guys," she declared simply, a slight sniffle heard from Ruby as she squeezed them tightly.

"Gonna miss you too, Ruby," Jaune replied, tearing up a little himself at the prospect of seeing his first friend at Beacon walk away, no matter how temporarily.

"Aww, young love," Yang snarked happily, and Ruby wheeled angrily upon her.

"Why do you have to ruin _everything_?"

"It's…" she began, before her smile evaporated under the younger girl's ire. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just…my thing, ya know?"

"We know, Yang. We know," Jaune chided her gently. "Get over here," he added, both he and Pyrrha opening their arms to embrace their friend. Yang obliged with a soft grunt of protest, embracing them both briefly before stepping back with a smile again.

"You take care of each other, okay? Don't want Vomit Boy missing out on school next year."

"You're not exactly making a good case for me coming back, Yang."

"Pfft, you love it."

"I'll do what I can," Pyrrha chimed in, a slight hitch to her voice as the sisters departed. If Yang or Ruby noticed this, they didn't say anything, but Jaune knew her far too well to let it slide, opting to wait until they had a modicum of privacy before he spoke.

"Something wrong?"

"I…something's come up, Jaune," she said, clearly uncomfortable.

"What's the matter, Pyrrha?" Jaune asked, taking both of her hands in his, squeezing gently to reassure his partner. She took a deep breath, looking back up into his eyes, seeing only concern there, and smiled again.

"It's about the Tournament."

"Pyrrha, you fought as well as you could have. We've been over this, come on," he reminded her.

"No. It's…there is a clause in my contract with Pumpkin Pete's. It was triggered when I made the tournament finals."

"Oh? What's going on?"

"I…have to go on a promotional tour this summer. All over Remnant," she confessed, emerald eyes downcast.

"Oh, that doesn't sound so bad," Jaune tried to reassure her.

"But I won't have very much time to work with you. Your footwork still needs improvement, and…" she began, already rambling nervously.

"Pyrrha," he said softly, calmingly, stooping down to look her in the eye again. "I was already thinking about that. As much as I would love to spend the summer with you, I don't think it would be a good idea." He continued softly.

"What?" she asked, confused, and to Jaune's eye, _hurt._

"I know you, Pyrrha. I know that you are driven beyond anything I could ever hope to be."

"Jaune…"

"Let me finish," he interrupted. "I am so thankful, _grateful_, for everything you've done for me. I'm a better fighter, and a _much_ better _person_, thanks to you," he said warmly, garnering an equally warm smile from his partner. "I don't want to hold you back anymore," he stated softly, Pyrrha opening her mouth to speak before he cut her off again. "I know you don't mind. And I know I need the help. _Believe me_, I know. I know that you enjoy spending time with me, and I do too. I also know that you're not getting anything out of it for yourself. I know you're going to have at least some spare time over the summer, and I want you to use it to work on yourself. You don't let it show, but I know you're not happy with losing. It's okay for you to be selfish for a while," he added firmly.

"I don't suppose you're taking no for an answer then?" she asked him, a dissatisfied smirk on her face.

"Team leader's orders, Pyrrha," he confirmed. "Maybe you can learn some new stuff to teach me next year?" he tacked on, getting that warm Nikos smile blossoming on her lips now.

"That sounds wonderful," she replied happily, regarding him for several moments before she wrapped her arms about his shoulders, pulling Jaune tightly to her. "You're the best partner I could ever have hoped for Jaune," she whispered, eyes watering just a bit.

"Only because you're such a wonderful example," he countered, the compliment getting a soft sob from the recipient.

"Awwww, look at these two. Isn't that just the sweetest thing, Ren?" Nora Valkyrie asked cheerfully from behind him.

"It certainly is, Nora," her partner answered serenely, the barest hint of a smile indicating how happy he truly was.

"Hey guys!" Jaune piped up, happy to have his team together one last time before they went their separate ways for the summer. Pyrrha must have been reminded of their imminent separation from the softly disappointed look on her face as Jaune pulled away.

"You still haven't given us an answer, Jaune," Ren reminded him politely.

"Answer?" Pyrrha asked, again out of the loop.

"Yup! Me and Ren got a summer job helping out the Sheriff in Silverlake. We're _finally_," she began, growling the word, "gonna be deputies!" she finished with her typical hyperactive cheer.

"I'm sorry, Nora. It wasn't my fault," Jaune hastily apologized.

"You're our fearless leader, Jaune. _Everything_ is your fault," she chided him.

"That's my line, Nora. Besides, things just kept…coming up," he added, not mentioning the Breach of Vale or Battle of Beacon by name.

"We know, Jaune," Ren replied placidly. "We were there," he tacked on, remembering how shaken his friend had been on both occasions. "I talked to Sheriff McAllister yesterday, and he's still willing to take on a third, maybe even a fourth, Pyrrha."

"I don't think I'll be joining you," Jaune said softly, favoring them both with a soft, reluctant smile.

"Awwww," Nora protested. "You could at least earn some extra Lien," she added, still trying to wrangle the wayward Jaune.

"I need to train. A _lot,_" he said firmly. "I need to be the teammate you guys all deserve," he continued softly.

"But, Jaune…" Nora persisted, coming dangerously close to whining now.

"I know. I'm a good leader, and a good friend to you all. You all keep telling me that, and I _am_ listening. But you guys are all that and more to _me_. Maybe, next Vytal Festival, _I'd_ like to be in the doubles round," he added with a little bit of a mischievous smirk.

"Over my dead body," Nora countered darkly, cracking her knuckles.

"That reminds me!" Pyrrha interjected, only _slightly _unsure that her fellow redhead truly wished to murder her partner. "I have something for you all." Reaching under her left bracer, the Mistrali champion slid three smallish envelopes from their hiding place, fanning them out for her teammates to take one each.

"What's this, Pyr?" Jaune asked hesitantly.

"Like I was telling you, my appearance in the tournament finals triggered a clause in my endorsement contract. That's why I can't join you in Silverlake, Ren. The _upside_ of that clause was a bonus," she said, smiling. "And I'm sharing it with you," she added, folding her hands in front of her.

Jaune's eyebrows flicked up in surprise as he began fiddling with the envelope. "Thanks, Pyrrha. You really didn't need to…" he said, trailing off as his eyes grew wide. "Ummm, Pyrrha?"

"Yes?"

"There's twenty-five thousand Lien in here," he stated, awestruck.

"The bonus _was_ a hundred," she clarified, blushing a bit.

"This…this is too much," Ren chimed in, shock evident even on _his_ normally placid face.

"We won as a team, Ren," Pyrrha retorted. "And I'm sharing the rewards of that success with my teammates. My _friends_." She emphasized, eyes watering at the word.

"Pyrrha, I…" Jaune began, shaking his head.

"Don't," she replied, taking his hands in hers, a warm smile curling her lips. "I want you all to have this. Not like I _need _the money."

"Thank you," he said softly, looking back up into her emerald green eyes, as close to tears as she was.

"That's a _lot_ of pancakes," Nora added softly, still blinking at her good fortune.

The Mistrali girl snorted softly, her calm visage soon crumbling into mirth as laughter took her and Jaune both.

"Never change, Nora," Jaune said once they had calmed down.

"You got it, cap'n!" she fired back with that salute of hers.

"And you, Miss Nikos," he added, a hint of accusation in his voice now. "I _should_ reprimand you for stealing my thunder."

"Oh?" Pyrrha asked nervously.

Jaune shucked his pack, digging around inside and retrieving a bundle of black cloth, presenting it to his partner. Curious, Pyrrha accepted the gift, pinching a couple points and allowing it to unfurl. Her eyes went wide as she recognized the garment, sleeves and hood flopping loose under gravity's pull, her teeth biting the inside of her lips lest she betray her emotions to the simple cartoon bunny staring back at her.

"I figured; you like borrowing mine so much, I might as well get you one of your own," Jaune began, scratching at the back of his scalp. "At least you won't have to keep smelling this one to check if I did laundry recently," he added, recalling her repeated excuse for the behavior. At last a smile started to show itself, even as Pyrrha shook her head.

"_So dense_…" she whispered softly, Jaune's hopeful smile dwindling a bit.

"Yeah, I suppose you could've got your own. Company girl and all that," he said dejectedly before she stepped forward and threw her arms about him.

"I love it," she stated simply, close enough that he could feel her breath, hot on his neck.

Followed by a hint of moisture on his cheek.

Returning the hug, Jaune patted her back, reassuring his partner and friend that everything was all right.

"Well?" Nora prodded.

"Oh!" Pyrrha replied, stepping back before shucking her weapons, leaning Miló and Akoúo against her leg before donning her present. The hoodie draped over her form loosely, the hem well below her hip line.

"You always said you liked your hoodies loose, so I got you my size," Jaune added obliviously, causing Pyrrha to blush again. Nora merely offered a slightly peeved glance at Ren, who likewise shook his head at his friend's utter lack of awareness when it came to women.

"So how do I look?" she asked hesitantly.

"Pyrrha, you'd look beautiful in a potato sack," Jaune replied instantly, Pyrrha's blush deepening at the compliment. "That being said, I think I've got you beat when it comes to ball gowns. Barely," he added without a shred of shame or embarrassment, pausing her thought process for the briefest of moments while she remembered his gesture from the dance from what seems like ages ago. Without warning, the normally soft-spoken huntress erupted into sparkling, genuine laughter, her frame contorting a bit as the emotional release hit her, her weapons clattering unnoticed to the ground.

"I think you'd look better in a tux, Jaune," She finally was able to reply.

"I'll keep that in mind, Pyrrha. If you don't have a date next year, that is," He prattled on cluelessly.

Nora swung her gaze at Jaune, eyelids half closed over a nearly neutral look of disappointment before she shook her head softly.

"What? You _want_ me to wear a dress?" he asked the team short-stack.

Nora's brow furrowed in frustration. "What I _want_… is for you to get a…"

"Hold on," Jaune interrupted, fishing in his pocket for his obnoxiously ringing scroll. Looking at the display for a second in shock, he tapped the screen and lifted the device to his ear. "Hey, Saph, I'm kinda in the middle of something, can I call you back in like, five minutes? Okay, yeah, talk to you in a bit," he finished, tapping the call closed. "Sorry, Nora, you were saying?" he added absently.

Nora inhaled intensely through her nose, mouth closed and jaw set almost angrily, before Ren spoke up beside her. "I think we have time to have a meal at the new IKOP before our flight to Silverlake, Nora."

"We do?" Nora asked hopefully.

"If we don't tarry, yes."

"You make a compelling argument," she concluded sagely, grasping her chin. "C'mere," she said at last, pulling Pyrrha and Jaune into a fierce hug. "You guys take care of yourselves, okay?"

"Always, Nora," Jaune said softly. "Ren? Stay out of trouble?" he added needlessly, though the lavender-eyed warrior knew exactly who he was referring to.

"Whenever possible, brother," he replied with a placid smile and slight bow.

"You think they still have that red sap syrup?" Nora queried of her partner.

"I think that was a limited promotion, Nora."

"Awwww," she replied, crestfallen as the two childhood friends began to meander down the path towards the docks.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"There's one more thing I'd like to give you before I leave."

"Oh?"

"But I'm not sure if you'll like it."

"Don't be silly, it's from you, right?" he replied, getting Pyrrha's smile back in response.

"Close your eyes."

"Umm, okay," Jaune said, confused but trusting his partner implicitly.

He heard a shuffling of cloth, but little else to give him a clue as to what was coming before he felt her hands circle around him, starting at his hips and following the beltline around to just above his tailbone. He could feel her doing..._something_… back there, but this quickly slipped from his thoughts. Pyrrha's proximity was intoxicating, even before he felt her lips press to his cheek. Brothers, he could _smell_ her, a light jasmine scent over the odor of her leathers. The kiss lasted far too long to be called a mere _smooch_, until at last he felt her hands on his hips again. She leaned back a bit as Jaune released a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Green eyes looked with affection as azure flitted open to meet their gaze, his blush overpowering her own. Hesitantly, Pyrrha backed off a step, releasing her partner and favoring him with a softly mysterious smile.

"So how do you like it?" she asked, getting a blank stare from Jaune for several seconds. Pyrrha flicked her eyes downward briefly, drawing his attention to the red sash she had tied there. On his frame, it barely reached past his knee, but still provided a splash of color to accent his largely monochromatic color scheme.

Craning his neck to better gauge his new look, Jaune couldn't help but notice that his partner had given him the one off her own hips. "Pyrrha…" he began, moved by the gesture "I can't…"

"I've got plenty, Jaune," she reassured him.

"I guess now everyone will know my partner is the great Pyrrha Nikos," he mock grumbled, scratching the back of his blonde head. "Guess I'll need to work even harder to be worthy of that," he added with a slight grimace.

"You'll always be my partner, Jaune. And I'll always be yours," she replied, her blush intensifying ever so slightly. "For as long as you'll have me."

"I… I can't even _imagine _being with anyone but you, Pyr," Jaune said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Likewise," she agreed, her smile growing wider.

"How do I look?" Jaune asked, planting his fists on his hips, affecting the most heroic pose he could conjure.

Pyrrha took a couple steps back, taking full advantage of the opportunity to give him a thorough ogling.

"Wonderful," she said at last, stepping forward to embrace him once more. "I need to get going, Jaune. If you change your mind, give me a call? I can make time for you, all you have to do is ask."

"I know," he said simply, squeezing Pyrrha tightly to him. "You take care of yourself out there, okay?" Jaune admonished her.

"You too, Jaune," she replied, eyes misting over. "See you later?"

"You bet!" Jaune said with only the hint of a sniffle.

He put on a smile to watch his partner walk down the quad towards the docks, getting a friendly wave before she was indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. Sighing softly, Jaune turned around, looking back towards the school that had been his home away from home for the last eight months. The arches, trees and gardens framed the more substantial architecture well, dorms and lecture halls rising behind and leading into the dominant landmark of the entire campus, Beacon Tower.

"Time to make a call." Jaune said to no one particular.


	2. Recombination

**Chapter 2**

**Recombination**

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, Atlesian technology working flawlessly to deliver Jaune to the main communications hub of the Cross-Continental Transmit system for the Kingdom of Vale. There were several students milling about, and several more making calls to loved ones scattered all over Remnant, though not nearly the numbers one would expect on a weekend. This alone was testament to the exodus from Beacon, and Jaune was glad for the lack of a wait. Settling into a small cubicle, he punched in the number from memory, depositing a twenty lien note from his wallet to cover what was sure to be an extended call. The telecomm splash screen was pleasant, if innocuous, and his call went through after several seconds. The display flickered to life, switching from a cool palette of blues to the interior of the Cotta-Arc kitchen, by the look of things, Saphron wearing a slightly surprised look on her face.

"Hey, baby bro! I thought you didn't have the plan minutes to video chat across Remnant," she said, still obviously cheerful to see him in the flesh, as it were.

"I was still on campus when you called. Hiking over to the CCT was worth the effort."

"Awww, you're still such a second mama's boy!" Saphron beamed, her smile growing wider at the gentle barb. Second Mom was a title she'd worn with pride while still living at home, something she'd taken very seriously as firstborn of the Arc children. "Surprised you didn't want to talk when I called a little bit ago."

"I was just seeing my friends off, Saph. Would've been rude not to," Jaune replied, bristling only slightly.

"Sure you didn't mean to say _girl_friend?"

"Several of them are female, yes," he shot back drily, deflecting the question.

"Uh huh," she replied with a skeptical scowl. "Who's that over your shoulder?" she asked, and Jaune's gaze flicked left as his head turned.

"No one?" he said, slightly confused as to where the conversation was going.

"Other shoulder," Saph corrected, whipping his head around in the opposite direction. "Huh," she added almost absently.

"What?" Jaune asked.

"So what's her name?"

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend, dork," Saphron replied, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Don't have one," Jaune fired back truthfully, but still on edge. He knew his eldest sister's tone of voice when she was about to spring a trap.

"Suuuuure," she retorted, clearly not believing him. "Terra, honey? Can I get your opinion on something?" she called out, looking past her scroll to do so.

"You _really_ want me to roll my bloated ass off the couch? I _just_ got comfortable," came a distant, testy reply.

"Sorry, babe. Hold on a sec, Jaune," she began, the video feed bobbing drunkenly as his sister walked out into the living room, one final jiggling motion seen as she settled into the couch, and Terra Cotta-Arc came into view as well. She looked haggard over her glasses, but her expression brightened as she focused in on her wife's scroll.

"Hey, Jaune!" Terra began with as much energy as she could muster.

"Hey, Terra. You okay? You look kind of…not good," Jaune replied, settling on the most diplomatic phrasing he could.

"Long day. Don't sweat it," Terra said with a soft sigh. "Or did you not tell him?" she demanded of Saphron, shooting a dark glance her way.

"It's not like he _calls_…_anyone_. Too busy being the big man on campus instead of my adoring baby brother," Saph grumbled.

"Oh for…gimme that," Terra growled softly, seizing the scroll. Extending her arm, she favored Jaune with a wider shot of the pair of them. Terra was reclined against her wife, head nestled comfortably in the crook of Saphron's neck. The blond's arms were wrapped affectionately over her wife's, the both of them encircling Terra just below her bust line.

And just _above_ a very obviously pregnant belly.

Jaune blinked hard, coming to terms with all the implications laid out before him, his view forcibly pivoting back to a closer shot of both of their faces again.

"Ummm, _wow_. Congratulations, you guys!" he said at last, an awkward waver to his voice.

"That's…not what I was expecting, really," Terra said, her expression confused, even as her wife's smile threatened to evaporate.

"No, no! I'm…I'm really happy for you both, Terra. Seriously!" Jaune tacked on, trying to salvage the situation. "It's just kind of a shock, really. I'm gonna be a…uncle," he added, tripping over the last word.

"We discussed this Jaune, remember? Over winter break?" Saphron gently prodded him. "You knew this was coming."

"Yeah. Still kinda weirded out by it. But it's a _good_ weird!" he hastily amended, proffering a goofy grin in an attempt to allay the girls' anxiety.

"Remind me how he's still single, honey?" Terra asked sardonically.

"Oh that reminds me!" Saphron replied, a mischievous gleam in her deep blue eyes. "You've got such an eye for color, hon, I just _had_ to ask for your help."

"Oh?"

"Jaune, can you look to your right again?" his sister asked, arousing Jaune's suspicion yet again even as he complied with the strange request.

"I see," Terra said simply, peering closer into the screen and adjusting her glasses a bit.

"What is it?" Jaune asked nervously.

"That's what I was wondering," Saphron retorted, suppressing a giggle.

"Midori Cosmetics, Luscious Lava, if I'm not mistaken," Terra said sagely.

"Huh?" He grunted.

"Okay, so let's take this from the top, o brother of mine." Saphron began, a predatory smirk commandeering her lips. "What. Is. Her. Name?"

"What are you…?" Jaune began, before he spied his own video feed in the corner of the display. Peering closer, the huntsman-in-training turned again to his right before spying the blatant set of lip prints gracing his left cheek. These soon disappeared, or at least they now seamlessly blended into the deep crimson of his blush.

_When did Pyrrha start wearing lipstick?_

"That's, umm, just from my partner," Jaune stammered, furiously, and fruitlessly, rubbing at the long-wearing lip color.

"Suuuuure," Saphron replied unbelievingly.

"Not that kind of partner, guys. Seriously. Totally platonic," Jaune reassured them. Or tried to, at least.

"Mmmmhmmm," Saphron replied skeptically.

"In fairness, none of it was on his lips, hon," Terra piped up helpfully.

"See? Terra agrees with me!" he shot back, a little _too_ desperately.

"Oh, I see how it is. How could you, Ter?" she wailed melodramatically.

"Oh, shut it. I love you enough to turn into a damn _whale_ so that we can have a kid together," Terra groused at her wife.

"I know, honey. I love you too," Saphron replied, planting a soft kiss on Terra's scalp.

"So, umm, when are you due?" Jaune asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

"September twenty-fifth. Summers are mild here, but it's still going to suck," Terra added.

"We've already got the nursery ready!" Saph added, tangible excitement creeping into her voice. "I'll send you pictures!" she gushed.

"Thanks, sis, but you know that was always Mom's thing, not mine," he said truthfully, noting how Saphron's eyes dipped low in response. "You still haven't told her yet, have you?" he asked as a follow-up, already knowing the answer.

"It's not like this is something you can just handle over the scroll, Jaune."

"I know, Saph. More than any of us, I know," he added reassuringly. They were the two closest to each other out of the Arc brood, and Jaune was intimately familiar with the desire to remain clear of their parents' well-meaning meddling in their lives.

"Yeah," she said softly, relaxing a bit. "Actually, that's what I called about. You got Dad's message right?"

"About the family vacation? Yeah. Don't know that I'm going. I need to find a good place for some supplemental training over the summer."

"It's only two weeks, Jaune," she gently implored him. "You know Ivy misses you terribly."

"Yeah, that's what Mom keeps telling me in her emails. Wait, why are _you_ so invested in me going?" Jaune asked suspiciously.

"Because I want you to go?" Saphron countered, her tentative tone betraying her. Jaune merely cocked an eyebrow to convey just how much he didn't believe her reasoning. "Fine, I need you there for moral support," she admitted after a pause.

"_You're_ going?" he asked, surprise creeping into his voice.

"No," she said flatly, bringing an arm up and tightening her hug down over Terra's shoulder. "_We're_ going."

"Oh," Jaune replied, blinking twice in disbelief.

"Yeah. You're the only one of us who gets me, and the only one who knows about Terra already."

"Saph," Jaune said, trying to reassure the one sister he never would have guessed would need it.

"I'll throw in a bag of those jelly beans you like…" she added sweetly.

"That hasn't worked since I was twelve, Saph," he replied drily.

"If you show up, I'll love you forever and ever and ever, with chocolate, cherries and whipped cream on top!" she escalated, reaching deeper into her sisterly bag of tricks.

"Is this how she tricked you into marrying her, Terra?" Jaune asked.

"Nah. _I_ held out for sprinkles," she replied with a soft smile.

"Bitch, I'm adorable and you know it," Saph fired back playfully.

"Yeah, _you're_ the cute one, and _I'm_ the smart one," Terra countered.

"Is that a dumb blond joke? You're outnumbered here, you know."

"Yeah, but he can't do anything about it. Besides, he knows I'm not talking about him, right, Jaune?" Terra asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Hey now, I'm not taking sides here. You're both pretty. And smart," Jaune responded, reprising his role as sibling mediator to settle the argument and maintain his neutrality.

"True," Saphron conceded, nuzzling into her wife's hair once again. "I did marry _you_, after all."

"Mmmmm, and don't you forget it," Terra replied, turning to give the Saphron a long peck on the lips.

Jaune sighed softly, knowing full well that he had to rip the bandage off just as much as Saphron did. "All right. I'll be there. So long as you promise to be there for me too?"

"Done!" Saphron immediately piped up, her mood lightening considerably. "Just think, hon! This time next week, we'll be out in the wilderness, under more stars than you've ever seen! Perfect for long smooches in a hammock together," she added, practically purring now as she nuzzled her nose against her wife's.

"All right, you two. Don't make me get the spray bottle," Jaune joked.

"Yeah, but as my delightfully cute and wickedly smart woman said, you can't hit us from where you are. Such a dumb blonde," Saphron chuckled, thinking herself immune to any counterattack.

"Hey, Terra?"

"Yeah, Jaune?"

"Right side, third rib from the bottom. Thank me later," he said with a soft smile.

Saphron's eyes went wide, her body frozen in shock at her brother's betrayal. Terra quizzically regarded Jaune's smug smile for a moment, before realizing exactly what had just transpired. Jaune's view of things spun wildly as Terra pounced, jabbing a finger into the location mentioned and prompting a shriek of laughter from Saphron in response. Once the scroll landed, Jaune was left looking at the ceiling of the Cotta-Arc living room with only the voices of the couple to provide an account of what was happening.

"But I'm not ticklish, Terra!" Came her mocking tone, nearly overwhelmed by the giggling laughter of her wife.

"Terra, I swear _GAHHHHHHH!_" she tried to reply, cut off as Terra renewed the assault. "You're gonna _aaack_! Pay for this, Jaune!"

"Best. Brother-in-law. Ever," Terra growled triumphantly.

"See you next week, Saph!" Jaune practically sang before he terminated the call with a contented smile.

That settled, Jaune placed his scroll into the interface slot, logging in to all his accounts before opening his email. Scrolling through his feed, he found what he needed, and he began laboriously hunting and pecking at his keyboard, with all the speed and accuracy of an _actual_ sloth.

Nora would be proud.

* * *

"But _Daaaaaaad_!" Violette Arc whined, her wide azure eyes latched onto the navy blue qipao gracing the mannequin in a storefront window. Embroidered golden peacock feathers ensured the garment was certainly more exotic than the loose floral print blouse and capris she was currently wearing.

"No buts, Vi. You and your sisters can go shopping _after_ we're settled at the inn," Renard Arc firmly reminded his third daughter.

"_Fine,_" she grumbled back.

"Hard pass," Marguerite chimed in, flicking at her scroll. "They still haven't fixed the crap reception out here, I see," she groused, closing the device and slipping it back into the pocket of her jeans.

"This is Shion, not downtown Vale, dear," Rose Arc reminded her. "We're out here to spend time together as a family, after all," The matriarch reminded her horde, folding her arms under an ample bust.

"But not everyone's heeeeeeerrrrrrre!" wailed Ivy, the youngest.

"Everyone is here who _wanted_ to be here, Ivy," her father gently rebuked her.

"Renard," Rose tutted, trying to rein in her husband's ill temper.

"Still the truth, Rose," he huffed back. "But regardless, we're going to get out and enjoy ourselves, _after_ we get checked in," he reminded everyone, lifting the arms of a not-insubstantial trolley borrowed from the airship station, weighed down with luggage and camping gear enough for ten.

Periwinkle Arc simply took a deep breath of pristinely clean air, a faint smile on her lips as the scent of jasmine wafted from the small planter boxes in front of the shop. "I love it here, daddy," she said wistfully before adjusting her glasses.

"I know, Peri," he replied with a smile, ruffling her unkempt blonde mop. "Come on, everyone. The faster we get to the inn, the faster everyone can abandon me."

"Daddy!" Pearl piped up, wrapping her diminutive arms around his waist. "I'm not leaving you! I promise!" she squeaked, rocking back and forth in a pale sundress until she bonked her head against the haft of her father's weapon. "Ow," she said softly, rubbing her head where she had struck the combination bearded axe/shotgun.

"Yeah, Dad. You promised you would take me weapon shopping, too!" Olivia added, brown cargo pants topped with a simple white button down shirt and leather jerkin betraying her future career choice much like a neon sign.

"I said we would _look_, Liv. A Huntsman's weapon is something that has to perfectly fit their combat style. Their _personality_. If they don't have what suits you, there are plenty of other options available," Renard added sternly. He wasn't entirely happy with his daughter following in his footsteps, but what father would be?

Olivia simply grumbled irritably about his answer, kicking a small rock down the street before following the rest of the family onward.

Shion was bustling, as much as a village its size could be at least, the summer heat not yet risen to unbearable levels. Many of the locals regarded the new arrivals with curiosity, a few of the older shopkeepers waving to the Arcs, remembering their previous visits over the years. Without much further distraction, aside from Rose having to corral the younger girls from time to time, the clan made their way to the lone inn at the center of town, black lacquered doors highlighted in a deep red swinging open with the slightest creak of the hinges.

The room was typical for central Anima, bare wooden floors spotless and bright of finish, a few potted plants providing a splash of color. A wide staircase leading upstairs sat adjacent to the front desk, a middle aged woman calmly standing watch there with her long ebony hair done up in a plait that hung over her left shoulder. The girls were content to settle onto the assortment of low couches scattered about the lobby, save Marguerite, who accompanied her parents to the front desk.

"Do you have a signal booster on site?" she asked, holding up her scroll.

"No, miss, I'm sorry. We haven't found one strong enough that doesn't cost more than the entire property," the innkeeper explained apologetically.

"Eff. Emm. Ell," Margie groaned before joining her sisters.

"I apologize for my daughter, ma'am," Renard said quietly.

"Kids," the woman said with a smirk.

"Indeed. Anyway, we'll be needing accommodations for two adults and six children. One single bed and three rooms with double beds should be sufficient," Renard began, already digging into his trousers for his wallet.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the inn is completely booked for the week," the woman replied, trying to be compassionate.

"All of it?" he retorted, disbelief mixing with the frustration of three days of intercontinental travel with seven young and not-so-young women.

"Yes, sir."

Renard Arc gripped the edge of the desk hard enough to generate an audible creaking of the wood, his eyes closed as he took several deep breaths.

"Ren?" his wife asked, gently clasping his shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll just have to start camping earlier than we planned."

"I just wanted _one night_ in a real bed, sweetheart. I've been camping in the wilds for the last two months, and barely made it home in time for our flight," Renard lamented.

"I know, dear. And I'm so _very_ glad to have you back, my big, strong, _handsome_ husband," she added, voice dipping into positively sultry tones as she ran her hand through Renard's lion's mane of golden hair.

"It's almost not fair you knowing how to do that," He grumbled softly.

"_Ugh_, Mom, can you two..._not_?" Violette snarked from behind them.

"One of these days, you're going to understand, Vi. When you're old enough to date," Rose fired back, still loving on her husband.

"Yeah, when you're _thirty_," Renard thoughtfully amended.

Violette audibly rolled her eyes at that comment before everyone was brought short by a gasp from the staircase.

"You're early."

"Jaune!" Ivy screamed, dashing up the stairs to fling herself into a bear hug of her brother, her face buried in Pumpkin Pete's smirking visage.

"Oof! What the heck are you feeding her, Mom?" he asked, lifting his apparently heavier sister up into his arms. "How you doing, sprout?"

"Mmmm, good. I missed you."

"_We_ missed you," their mother reinforced.

"Yeah," he replied oh so eloquently, his hand finding the back of his head.

"Son, I…" his father began, before even he was brought short by the sight of Saphron and Terra rounding the corner of the staircase.

"Dad," Saphron said neutrally, the tension in the room ramping up even further.

"Saph," Renard acknowledged with a similar unease.

Rose took a tentative step forward, sapphire blue eyes brimming with tears. "It's good to see you _both,_" she said at last, voice quavering ever so slightly.

"Mom, I…" Saphron began, taking a couple steps down as well.

"Rose, Saph, give the young lady some room to get by. I'm sorry, my dear, bit of a family reunion," Ren said warmly, addressing Terra.

"Ummm, yeah. Introductions," Saphron began with an uneasy smile. "Terra, this is my mom, Rose, my dad, Renard. That's Marguerite, Violette, Olivia in the vest, Pearl, Peri with the glasses, and the little one is Ivy," she said, indicating each in turn.

"Hi," Ivy said from her nest in Jaune's hoodie.

"Everyone," Saphron continued, taking Terra's hand in hers and bringing her forward, "This is Terra Cotta. My wife," she finally pronounced, draping her left arm across the smaller woman's shoulder to show off her wedding band.

"Well, _some_one's been busy," Margie observed, puncturing the awkward silence.

"You have a room, I take it?" Renard asked his son.

"We all do, actually. Here," Jaune replied, having to make a concerted effort to dig into the pocket of his hoodie, as Ivy was doing her best Taijitu impression directly over it. After several seconds, the blond huntsman-in-training managed to extricate a handful of key fobs, offering them to his mother. "Paid through the end of the week," Jaune added, drawing a raised eyebrow from his father, burly arms folded across his broad chest. Rose flicked her gaze at her husband briefly, reading his face like an open book.

"Marguerite? Can you get the rest of your sisters settled, and move all the luggage upstairs please?" the true head of the Arc household spoke in measured tones.

"Sure, Mom. You heard the lady, get the lead out," she barked, knowing full well not to buck her mother right now. "You too, Ivy!" she added, seeing the girl in question still plastered to her brother's torso.

"Awww, we just got here!" Ivy protested as everyone else followed their orders.

"And you can catch up in a little bit, sprout. Your father and I need to speak to your brother and sister," Rose chided softly. "This time of day, I assume the dining room is free?" she asked the innkeeper.

"Yes, ma'am. Tea?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Mama Arc replied evenly. "Jaune, Saphron," She directed to her wayward children, the both of them cringing at _that_ tone of voice. The two of them hesitantly finished their descent, before walking across the lobby to the dining room. Rose closed the distance to her husband, placing her hands on both of his shoulders, her deep blue eyes gazing intently into his. "Ren? Calm. Civil," she said softly in admonishment.

Taking a deep breath before letting it go in a long sigh, Renard Arc nodded once before turning about and heading to the dining room as well, Rose following immediately after. Once they were there, she turned around to close the _shoji_ behind them, only to utter a gasp of surprise when she nearly bumped into Terra, her face a mix of apprehension and determination even as she slid the panel into place behind them.

"Miss…Terra, is it? Not to be rude, but this is a family matter, and…" Renard began in his best diplomatic tone.

"_What!?_" was Saphron's stunned response.

"Excuse me?" Terra fired back immediately after, her eyes wide in righteous fury.

"So much for _civil_." bemoaned Rose Arc, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Just because I'm not what you wanted for your daughter doesn't make me _any_ less family!" Terra Cotta-Arc lashed out with all the rage of a woman dragged halfway across Anima whilst five months pregnant.

"Now wait just a damn minute!" Renard countered, trying to regain ground.

"I don't care _how_ old-fashioned you are, you're not avoiding this. We love each other enough to start a family together, so you can either accept it, or stay the hell out of our lives!" Terra barked even more harshly.

"Old-fashioned?" Ren countered, clearly on his back foot now.

"Yes, Dad. Remember you losing your damn mind when you caught me and Selene in bed together? Right before I left home?" Saphron demanded angrily of her father.

"It was a lot to process, Saph," he replied.

"Oh, and you weren't pissed off because I was with a woman instead of a man?"

"I would've been _more_ pissed if it had been a boy, Saphron!" Renard retorted forcefully. "At least a girl couldn't get you pregnant!" he added. The three women in the room stopped to fix him with the same peeved look. "What?" he asked, perplexed in the extreme. His wife merely directed his gaze to her left with two emphatic hands framing Terra's belly.

"A woman's pregnancy or lack thereof is neither an assumption I make, nor a question I ask. There be Grimm down that path," Renard added sagely.

"Then why, Daddy?" Saphron pleaded, fighting back tears.

"Because you weren't supposed to grow up that fast!" her father shouted back desperately, the response silencing the room. "You're my precious little sparrow, not some woman, ready to do…" he pronounced, trailing off.

"Sex?" Saphron filled in, brutally honest not out of malice, but love.

"…That," he conceded, unwilling to even speak the word. "I... You're my firstborn, Saph. I… wasn't ready," he admitted, eyes finding the floor. "I panicked. I thought I'd lost my little girl forever," Renard added, voice barely above a whisper. "And then I did."

"Daddy…" Saphron said softly, slowly edging towards her father. "I love you so much. I'll always be your daughter," she continued, embracing him in a slow, but fierce hug. "But this little bird had to fly someday, right?" She asked him, powerful arms wrapping around her at last as he nodded slowly.

"You didn't even let us know," he finally said morosely.

"I didn't think you'd approve, Daddy. Or worse, show up and make a scene."

"We missed out on the happiest day of your life. I would have loved to have seen you. Walked you down the aisle," he rambled on wistfully.

"Ehh, it was more of a courthouse thing. We were saving money for a house," Terra chimed in.

"She'd have been beautiful in a potato sack," Renard countered with conviction.

"Yes. She would have indeed," Terra concurred, smiling softly.

"Besides, Dad, Terra's a really sweet lady," Jaune piped up helpfully.

"You knew about this?" Rose asked, voice icy cold.

"Heh. Heheh. Oh, shit," he said softly, offering a nervous grin to both of his parents, fingers furiously scratching at the back of his head.

"We asked him not to say anything, ma'am," Terra interjected in his defense.

"He always did listen to her better than his _own parents_," Rose observed, eyebrow cocked in annoyance.

"Moooooom…" Jaune responded, _totally_ not whining like he'd gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"So," Renard began, releasing Saphron from his grasp. "I suppose you're my new daughter-in-law?" he began, looking Terra up and down appreciatively.

"Yes. Terra Cotta-Arc. Pleased to meet you, Mister Arc," she said pleasantly, offering a hand only to get pulled into a gentle bear hug. "Oof, careful."

"I'll have you know I've got plenty of experience hugging a pregnant woman. Never had any trouble being too rough," he added, warmth beginning to infuse his voice at last. "Except with that one, I think. Came out all _weird_," Renard amended, indicating his son with a nod of the head. "And please, call me Renard," he tacked on, releasing her at last.

"Yes, sir," Terra replied, still uncomfortable with the concept.

"And why not the other way around?"

"Pardon?" Terra asked, confused.

"I mean what's wrong with Arc-Cotta...yeah, doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?" he mused, answering his own question.

"Same conclusion we came to." Saphron piped up, relieved that her father wasn't making an issue of the matter.

"So, umm. _How_...exactly?" Renard asked, flicking a glance down at Terra's abdomen.

"We're fortunate in Argus. I've got access to an Atlesian OB/GYN through work. Fertility treatments are pretty advanced these days," Terra said smoothly, as if she'd been expecting the question.

"I...see. So how did you pick…"

"Oh! No, Dad. It's not like that. They've got a technique for two women to have a child together now!" Saphron piped up excitedly. "You remember, Mom? You sent me that article last year!"

"Yes, I did. Wasn't trying to give you a suggestion, dear," Rose retorted with a slight smile.

"Let me show you something," Saphron added, digging out her scroll and flicking through her photos until a blurry black and white image was found. "Come here, Mom." She amended, crowding both parents in where they could see before tapping the screen. The black and white image came to life, clearly recognizable as video of an ultrasound, blobs fading in and out of existence with only a few resolving into something familiar.

"What am I looking at?" Renard asked skeptically.

"That," Saph said calmly, pausing the video in a spot that best displayed the object of the search. "Is Adrian. Your grandson. In every way that matters," she stated proudly.

"I don't see it," her father said softly, leaning in to get a better look at the screen.

"Oh for the love of… There's the head, there's one of his little arms, and there's…" Saphron explained with what little patience she could muster, pointing out each feature before trailing off.

"Oh!" he finally exclaimed. "That's a boy all right!" he shouted proudly.

Rose looked at her husband, her simple Renard, with a chuckle, taking in the tableau with a soft smile. After a moment, she noticed her only son, still standing slightly apart from the group. He'd never been one for doting over maternity, being only eight years older than her youngest, but Jaune had always been there for the girls, no matter what they put him through. There was a warm, mature smile on his face, attractive beyond the simple maternal instinct she had for all her children. Something had changed behind those eyes, improving the boy beyond her wildest hopes. No, not a boy.

A _man_.

"Jaune, sweetie, can you give me a hand? I want to make sure the girls haven't turned our quarters into a train wreck," Rose asked sweetly.

"Uhh, sure, Mom," he said hesitantly, looking over to his sister. Saph looked back over her shoulder briefly before giving him a curt nod of approval. She..._they_ were going to be fine now. He followed obediently after his mother, closing the _shoji_ behind them both to allow his father and the new additions to his family bond. "Looks like they've gotten everything off the trolley. Was there anything else outside?"

"That's not why I pulled you out here," Rose said sharply.

"Ma'am?" he asked, already feeling like a guilty eight-year-old boy again.

"I'm only going to ask you this once, son. Is. She. Lying?"

"About?" Jaune asked, trying to buy time to figure out how much trouble he was in.

"Is Adrian our grandson?" she hissed quietly, not chancing _anyone_ eavesdropping.

Jaune paused briefly, trying to figure out the best way to phrase his answer.

"I swear on my word as an Arc, that child is your grandson," he solemnly declared.

His mother regarded him for several moments, her gaze intently boring into his and getting nary a flinch in response. She smiled at last, that clever grin that heralded something wonderful, or something terrible, for whomever it was directed toward.

"You are a wonderful brother, Jaune, and I am proud to call you my son. I can't think of a handful of men on Remnant who would have done what you have," she said in admiration.

"Umm, thanks? I'm not sure what you're talking about, really," he replied hesitantly.

"You _do_ remember I was your father's attending physician before I was his wife, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So three things. That article I sent your sister. That technology is still in the very earliest phases of testing. Even if it weren't, something like that would cost tens of thousands of lien. And at the end of the day, they _still_ can't synthesize a Y chromosome," Rose listed ticking off each point on her fingers.

"Meaning?" Jaune asked, still trying to play catch up with his mother's mind.

"_Meaning_...Neither one of those girls could _possibly _be Adrian's 'father'," she concluded, complete with air quotes.

"Oh," Jaune summed up. "Don't tell Dad?"

"Like this family needs the drama," she said reassuringly, pausing for several moments to allow her son to relax. "So, did you and Terra…?" she asked, trailing off suggestively as Jaune's cheeks exploded with color.

"NO!" he whisper screamed before calming down just a hair. "Are you joking? I have a hard enough time looking her in the eye as it is right now. If I'd actually...I couldn't even be in the same _room _as them without having a heart attack. I _literally _passed out when they asked me," he confided, finally having someone he could actually share the story with.

"Oh, it couldn't have been that bad, dear."

"Really? And I quote: 'Hey baby bro, this is my wife, Terra Cotta. We've been thinking about it, and, well, we'd like you to put a baby in her!' close quote," Jaune said, returning to a whisper. "And when I woke up, she already had my hair braided. Again. Just to show Terra," he groused quietly.

Rose Arc attempted, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle at the image, remembering all too well the pranks he had patiently endured as a child.

"Got her back though."

"Oh?"

"I told Terra where she was ticklish."

"You, Jaune, are a very..." she began, poking him firmly in the chest and then stopping herself. Several more experimental prods landed on his chest, a couple more on his upper arms, and even one in the center of his abdomen. "Dust, you've put on some muscle," she said, almost awestruck.

"I guess. Good food, excellent training," he summarized succinctly.

"You really are there at Beacon, aren't you?" she asked softly. "It's not just putting on airs to impress us, right?"

"Well, not right this second, but yeah. Why would you think that?"

"It's just… Your father said you couldn't have been still enrolled. That you never would have made it through initiation," she said, ashamed to have believed it.

"That...is a story for another time. Maybe when everyone is there?" he said, offering her a gentle smile.

"Sounds like a plan," Rose Arc replied, heart overflowing with pride.


	3. Old Wounds

**Chapter 3**

**Old Wounds**

"Can you please pass the dumplings, Jaune?" Terra Cotta-Arc asked politely, still trying to make a positive impression with the rest of the family. She thankfully didn't have to raise her voice, as the older Arc children were well-versed in keeping the dinner table a civilized setting, and the smaller girls were busily stuffing their faces from the delicious banquet before them.

"Schure," Jaune replied from around a mouthful of lo mein, grabbing the circular bamboo basket and handing it across the large, rectangular table.

"Jaune." His mother softly rebuked him.

He swallowed audibly before offering her a soft "Sorry," to which she simply nodded curtly.

"So, Terra, you work with the CCT network?" Rose began, prodding the conversation along in the safest lane she could think of.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm the lead technician for InterComm in Argus. Mostly I have to just keep my field techs from tearing their hair out on a daily basis. City of fifty thousand isn't easy to keep linked in. Not to mention keeping the relay up to Mistral and Atlas, plus the Atlesian military comms on top of that," Terra continued, getting more animated and relaxed with a topic of conversation that didn't involve eloping, babies or lack of familial communication.

"What kind of bandwidth do you generate? On average?" Marguerite asked, being by far the most technologically savvy of the Arc sisters.

"Average? Two hundred forty terabytes of throughput per hour, plus or minus. Peak is around three times that, especially for stuff like tournament coverage," she added without guile, missing the brief flick of Renard's impassive gaze in her direction.

"Don't suppose you packed any relay equipment with you?" Margie asked hopefully, taking a sip of green tea.

"Brothers, no. This is the first peace and quiet I've had in _months._ No _way_ am I giving _that_ up," Terra fired back with a grin.

The eldest of Terra's sisters-in-law could only grumble at the remark, checking her scroll for the tenth time since dinner had been served. Marguerite's eyebrows perked for a moment upon seeing a notification, eagerly checking who had sent her a message. This hope was quickly snuffed out as the animated _busy_ icon looped endlessly, despite her scroll telling her it had signal, prompting a growl from the darkest-haired blonde of the bunch.

"The only thing worse than _no_ CCNet…" she began softly.

"Is _slow_ CCNet," Terra finished for her.

"I know, _right_? Who the hell is hogging all the bandwidth?" she groused.

"A topic for another time, dear?" her mother replied, arching a disapproving eyebrow at scroll use at the dinner table.

"Sorry," she mumbled, securing her device and tucking into her fried rice. "Who's got the soy sauce?"

Jaune, on the other hand, had been quietly doing the same thing, but he was far better at concealing the action from his experience in the lecture halls of Beacon Academy. One was far more careful about rules violations when your professor could kill Ursai at fifty paces without batting an eyelash. What wasn't surreptitious, however, was his eyes going wide in surprise at his own scroll traffic.

_Sender: PyrrhaANikos Beacon,aca_

_Downloading video files 1/27_

Sliding his scroll closed, Jaune likewise pocketed his device, lest he earn the ire of his older sister.

"So how's life in the big city, little brother?" Violette asked, always eager to lord her age over Jaune.

"Ehh, I don't get down there much. Too much going on at Beacon. There's the course load, the homework, all the _extra _training I'm doing just to keep up," Jaune admitted sheepishly.

"Not to mention holding down a job," his father finally chimed in. "Must pay pretty well for part-time work. You paid for the accommodations, after all," he added, outwardly magnanimous, but Rose, Jaune and his three older sisters tensed. Their father wasn't prone to fits of anger, nor was he the type of man to browbeat a wayward child into submission. Renard Arc was the kind of father who gave you enough rope to hang yourself before giving you a firm, fatherly reminder of your foolishness.

"Oh, _that_. No, my partner shared her tournament bonus with us. The team, I mean," he clarified nervously, knowing that he'd stepped into a minefield, but as yet unsure how to navigate it.

"I was under the impression the Vytal Festival didn't pay anything to the winners. Student athletes and all that," Renard replied smoothly.

"Wasn't from the tournament itself. One of her sponsorships, actually," Jaune clarified.

"You guys get sponsors?" Olivia interjected eagerly. "Cool!"

"Well, _yes_, cool, but no. Just Pyrrha. And yes, Pyrrha Nikos is most definitely _cool_," Jaune added warmly, duly proud of his partner for the next three years, and perhaps even beyond, if he was lucky.

"Wait a minute," Violette cut in. "You're telling me the _Pumpkin Pete's_ girl is your partner?" she asserted skeptically.

"Yeah?" Jaune replied, wondering why anyone would doubt such a fact. "I've got a picture of the team on my scroll…" he began before remembering that he was the cause of Margie's frustration. "Which is upstairs. Charging. Completely dead," he added nervously.

"Uh huh," Violette retorted.

"What? Didn't you guys catch the tournament at all?" Jaune asked incredulously.

"TV's been broken for the last three weeks. Would've gotten it replaced, but your father's been in the wilds for the last two months, and you _know_ how he is about that kind of thing," Rose explained. When it came to anything over fifty lien, he knew that his father was possibly the pickiest, fussiest shopper on Remnant, and Jaune knew a _Schnee_.

Jaune looked crestfallen for a moment before he remembered his pockets, digging into his hoodie with his right hand. With a small degree of difficulty, he extricated a flat box covered in black velvet, a little larger than an opened scroll. This slid across the table with ease, coming to rest in front of Violette's plate.

"Open it," he told her, drawing the attention of all his sisters save Saphron, who'd already seen the contents. Vi flipped open the lid and her smugly skeptical smile faded just a hair. She cut her gaze up to her brother briefly before looking back down at the diamond-shaped silver medal held in a nest of black velvet, the interior of the lid decked out in silk of the same color, embroidered in gold with the insignia of all four Huntsman academies.

"Nice. Limited edition?" Violette asked with a mischievous smirk, leaving the word '_souvenir_' unspoken.

"Yeah. Only four made every other year," Jaune replied, his own grin rising to the occasion. It was easy to smile when you knew you held all the cards.

"Suuure," she retorted sarcastically before Margie plucked the medal case from her slightly malicious younger sister's grasp.

"Give me that," she said, and the case dipped in her grasp for a moment before Marguerite adjusted to the unexpected weight. Plucking the medal from its nest, the deep blue ribbon folded underneath, she hefted the weighty medal for several seconds before her blue eyes looked up at her brother, then over to Violette. "This is real," she said, voice barely above a whisper, her gaze slowly pivoting back to meet Jaune's. "Where did you get this?" she asked him, awestruck.

"Amity Coliseum, last Tuesday," he said matter-of-factly. "Turn it over," he added, voice just above the utter silence that had taken over the dining room.

"Fortieth Vytal Festival Tournament, Team…J-N-P-R?" she paused, voice tinted with confusion.

"Juniper," Jaune clarified.

"Ah," she said, feeling a bit silly for not figuring it out herself, but smiling softly. "Jaune…" she resumed, pausing immediately as the reality of the situation hit her, her grin evaporating instantly. "Jaune Arc, Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, Lie Ren. Why does your name have an asterisk next to it?"

"That's my team, and I'm their leader," he said evenly, much surer of the statement than he had been immediately after initiation.

"Ohmigosh, I have the coolest brother _EVER_!" Ivy shouted, leaning over to hug her brother as tightly as her little frame would allow, twin pigtails bobbing as she rocked back and forth. Give her another seven years, and unlock her aura, and the girl would put _Nora_ to shame.

"Jaune, why didn't you tell anyone?" Rose asked, voice soft and warm as a blanket fresh out of the dryer, smile radiant as the sun.

"I thought you'd watch the tournament?" he replied with a shrug.

"I…I'm sorry, Jaune," she said, eyes misting over ever so slightly.

"Enough," Renard finally said, his fatherly demeanor belied by the chill in his voice.

"Ren?" Rose asked warily.

"Ivy is a child, Rose, but I will not have _you_ indulge this…_farce_ any longer."

"What?" she replied, aghast. Renard simply swung his eyes around the table to his son, Jaune beholding his father truly _angry_ for the first time in years.

"All right, Jaune, this has gone far enough. I _do_ have to say I'm impressed. This is the most effort I've ever seen you put into _anything,_" he added, a stinging rebuke disguised as a backhanded compliment.

"You're not wrong," Jaune fired back, voice colder than an Atlesian winter.

"Rose, take the girls upstairs," Renard growled, not breaking the staredown with his son.

"No," Rose and Jaune both said, startling her.

"What?" he replied testily, even as something in Jaune snapped.

"You want to tear me down in front of my family? _Fine_. They get to watch me fight back," he retorted, voice already getting dangerously loud.

"Careful what you wish for, boy," Renard cautioned his son.

"Or I'll get it? Try me," Jaune replied, already angry enough to carelessly provoke an accomplished huntsman into the same state of mind.

"Remember, Jaune. _You wanted this_," he began, a predatory grin taking over his face. "For starters there's no way you even got _accepted_ to Beacon. You have no training, and no aura,"

"Whose fault was that?" Jaune interjected testily.

"And nothing you could have done in the two weeks you had before the school year started would change that," His father barreled on.

"You're right. Professor Ozpin accepted me in spite of that, even _I_ didn't understand why at the time. What else you got?" Jaune fired back easily enough. The only advantage to constantly doubting oneself lay in knowing _exactly _how others would attack you.

"Even if I accept such a _ridiculous_ claim, there's no damn way you made it _to_, let alone _through _initiation."

"_Almost_ right that time, Dad. I nearly died three, no wait…_four_ times that day," he began, getting a gasp from his mother loud enough to cut through the shouting match.

"Oh, so you survived getting launched off of a cliff into the Emerald Forest, a drop of nearly a hundred feet, _with no aura_!?"

"I'm not sure I would have survived the impact even _with_ my aura unlocked, but yes. I got speared out of midair by my partner and stapled to a tree," he fired back viciously, his intense stare at his father missing the flinch from his mother.

"A one in a million shot," Renard fought back, grasping at straws for once.

"That Pyrrha can make any day of the week and twice on Sunday. She's the one who unlocked my aura. S_he's_ the one who taught me to fight. _She's_ one of the first people who actually _believed _in me," Jaune's voice growing louder as he emphasized each point with two fingers jabbing angrily into the tabletop.

"You knew," Rose said, barely audible over the two arguing men, her head shaking in disbelief.

"What?" her husband replied, knowing full well from her tone how dangerous the woman's state of mind was.

"You _knew_ what he would face at Beacon. You _KNEW_ it could kill him! And you _LET HIM GO ANYWAY_!?" Rose Arc screamed across the table, furious in a manner _none_ of her children had ever seen.

"He was never going to go through with it! He was going to half-ass it like _everything he's ever done_! He was going to quit, or chicken out at the last second, or…_something_!" Renard bellowed back, his hands gesturing in angry exasperation. "Guitar lessons. Computer camp. Ceramic studio. Dancing lessons. Piano tutor. Wood carving kit. Leather working," Jaune's father listed, a litany of disappointment boiling over angrily for the first time. "Only _one _of those lasted more than three months, and _that's_ because he had a crush on his guitar teacher."

"All things _you _shoved me into because you _refused_ to train me to do the _ONE THING_ I've ever wanted to do!" Jaune finally, and angrily, interrupted.

"_BECAUSE I KNEW YOU COULDN'T HACK IT!_" his father screamed back, stunning everyone into silence. "I asked you a question, on your twelfth birthday, just like _my_ father asked _me_, just like I've asked your sisters before you, and the ones after you when they're of age. I asked you what you wanted to do with your life. And you told me. You told me that you wanted to be a Huntsman. So I asked you _why_. You told me you wanted to be just like me."

"What the hell is wrong with that reason?" Jaune demanded.

"It's not good enough!" Renard fired back sharply. "I got through initiation, and my entire team was made up of legacies. _Every one of us_ was the child of an accomplished Huntsman. I busted my _ass_ to get into Beacon, and stay there, but they all coasted in, trained by their parents to higher levels than any prep school could ever manage, but without the work ethic they needed. Their hearts were in the right place, but I was the only one with the _backbone_ to be a Huntsman," Renard stated with conviction, before his voice dropped to more sedate levels.

"In my four years at Beacon, I lost _seven_ teammates. All legacy students. Two quit outright, one was maimed to the point she couldn't continue. Four of them died in the field, including every other member of my first year team," he added, the fire in his gaze all but gone as he looked down at the table, dinner forgotten.

"I kept you from that fate, Jaune. I kept you _safe,_" Renard said softly.

"If you wanted me to be safe, you would've unlocked my aura," Jaune replied icily, snapping his father's eyes back up into his own.

"I can't," he said flatly.

"Couldn't? Or _wouldn't_?" Jaune responded, teeth grinding in simmering anger.

"_Can't_," Renard reiterated uncomfortably.

"What? _Why_?"

"I've never been able to. I unlocked my aura spontaneously when I was seven. Never been sure if that's the reason or not. I've tried. _Brothers,_ I've tried."

"So what am _I_ supposed to do, Dad?" Olivia interjected, alarmed even beyond how heated the argument already was. "Classes start in three and a half months, and I need to get a handle on my aura before then!" she shouted with all the subtlety of a thirteen-year-old.

Jaune blinked twice before turning towards Liv, reading her face for a quiet moment. "Wait," He said quietly, pausing before looking back to his father once again. "You'll protect _me_, but not _her_?"

"Because she actually _gets it_, Jaune. She has the right mindset. The right _reason_," his father replied, as if it were the gospel truth.

"_Fine_," Jaune muttered angrily, standing up and jamming his hand back into his pocket to retrieve his scroll, his earlier lie forgotten. "You want a reason?" he growled, flicking through apps to get to his picture folder, scrolling to find the right image before calling it up, tossing the scroll to land flat in front of his father's plate.

"Ruby Rose," he began, putting a name to the face on display, a candid picture taken after the most infamous food fight in Beacon history, a smile warm enough to melt the stoniest of hearts. "From Patch, fifteen years old. Leader of our sister team, RWBY. Smart, funny, a bit awkward, has a cute little dog named Zwei. She loves cookies, strawberries, weapons, and obliterating Grimm. Was the first person at Beacon who gave me the time of day, even though I puked right in front of her on the airship on our first day," he added with a slight smile at the memory, in spite of the nickname he'd earned as a result.

"You're joking," Renard replied flatly, taken aback at…_something_. Jaune couldn't tell exactly what.

"She's my best friend, and…" Jaune continued, before running into a metaphorical brick wall when his father continued.

"You _really_ think that's a better reason? You're going to Beacon to chase a damn _SKIRT_!?" Renard Arc thundered back. "I raised you better than this, Jaune! I would have thought your sisters would have taught you to think with your _head_, not your…" he raged on, before Jaune's fist slammed into the tabletop, a thunderous noise accented lightly with the sound of crackling wood. His father could only look at the boy's fist, abundantly brilliant white aura casting shadows behind the overturned cups and bowls immediately adjacent. As this faded, everyone, in wide-eyed silence, could see Jaune's hand was embedded half an inch into the thick table, splinters blossoming like a water lily around it.

"If I hadn't been at Beacon, if I had stayed home, _safe_, she'd be _DEAD_!" Jaune bellowed at his father, deep blue eyes set in a mask of fury. "I was _there, _Dad. I was _at_ the Battle of Beacon! _I fought_ at the breach of Vale! I was out there. _Doing it_. Just like I always wanted to. The only thing I've _ever_ wanted to do. I was fighting for the people who couldn't. Risking my life so that others didn't have to. I was _saving. Lives_. I wasn't hiding in the basement, hoping my Dad would get home before the Grimm broke down the door. I wasn't sitting on the sidelines. I was making a _difference_. Just like I dreamed I would. I stood there, and I looked into the darkness, and I. Said. '_No_'," he said, voice growing colder with each word before he drove the final point home with a deathly, quiet calm. "Just like my father always did. I know. Pretty _stupid_ fuckin' reason, right?" he concluded, looking downward at the damaged table, somehow knowing that his mother at the very least had been reduced to tears.

Renard Arc couldn't even close his mouth for several seconds, stunned into silence by a man he barely recognized, wearing his little boy's face and that stupid hoodie. Several times, he took in a breath, trying to find a word, maybe even a coherent sentence, before his mind froze and he was forced to sigh in frustration and repeat the cycle again. The Arc sisters were all casting their gaze back and forth between their brother and their father; confused, frightened, unwilling to inject themselves into the conflict.

"Jaune…" his father said softly, still struggling to find the right thing to say. "Why…?" he tried to begin, certainly not the question Jaune was expecting.

"What?" he asked, finding his gaze moving upwards to regard his father. Renard Arc was currently a very conflicted man, if appearances were to be believed.

"Where was this? When I asked you, why didn't you _tell _me?" Renard beseeched his son. Apparently he was also hurt, confused, sad and amazed, once you matched his voice to his face. "This…_you_…" he began again, failing again to give voice to his emotions. "Why couldn't you tell me this before?"

"I was _twelve_!" Jaune replied, exasperated and tired. "I'm barely articulate _now_," he conceded quietly, looking down and scratching the back of his head. "By the time I was old enough to put it into words, you'd made it clear it was too late to start. That I'd never catch up," he added. "Damn if you weren't right about _that_," he almost mumbled.

"That was a better answer than I gave _my_ father," Renard said softly, shaking his head as he took his seat, lost in thought.

Jaune slowly did the same, sighing softly as he spied Ivy in her adjacent chair. She was trembling, hugging her knees to her chest before her brother reached over and pulled her to him. "Sorry, Ivy," he mumbled gently, kissing the crown of her blond head. "Sorry you had to see that."

"S'ok" she managed through a sniffle.

"You knew about this, Saph?" Renard asked calmly.

"Would you have believed me?"

"I suppose not," he continued with a sigh, eyelids closing over weary eyes.

"Daddy?" Pearl asked tenuously, her eyes welling up from her spot beside him.

"Shhhhhh, kitten," her father replied, gently ruffling the youngster's long, straight hair. "It's okay now," he added, his gaze rising back to his son. He held it for several seconds, a wordless exchange between father and son held across the table.

"I've said my piece," Jaune said quietly, the fire finally beginning to ebb from his eyes. "Are we good?"

"Aye, son," Renard replied. "I'm still not happy about how this happened, but you're going to be alright. Not that it matters, apparently, but you've got my blessing."

"Ren," his wife cut in, tone sharp and warning.

"It's okay, Mom. Vale wasn't built in a day," Jaune interrupted, allaying her fears. "Your dinner's getting cold, Peri," he added.

A moment passed before the wild child of the Arc clan smiled softly, the spell over the family dinner table broken. Violette took Jaune's medal from her sister, appreciating it for what it actually was now. Ivy and Pearl both became far more animated, their respective idols at peace with each other. Marguerite resumed working with her chopsticks, before spying her brother's scroll two seats down, deciphering the notification icons easily.

"Jaune, you son of a…"

"Finish that sentence. _Please,_" Rose cut in, slamming the door on her second daughter.

"Sorry," she replied, well-manicured nails finding their way into her exceptionally short hair.

"Don't worry, it's not normally like this," Saphron whispered into her wife's ear, still loud enough to be heard by their neighbors.

"So when are you bringing her to meet the family, Jaune?" Renard asked smoothly, sliding his son's scroll back across the table.

"Who? Ruby?" Jaune replied, quite perplexed.

"Yes. I'm genuinely curious just how your girlfriend managed to get into Beacon at such a young age," his father added.

"She's not my girlfriend!" he yelped desperately.

"Really? Why not? You seem quite the admirer, and, if you'll indulge an old man, she's rather fetching," he rambled on.

"Oh, where do I begin? She's my best friend, nothing more, and besides, her big sister would pummel me into hamburger, but only _after_ she teased Ruby until she burst into flames. I've also been told that her father and uncle are even _more_ dangerous. Besides, I don't even think she's _into_ boys. Yet," Jaune qualified, neither of them ever having broached the subject.

"I can tell you with certainty that the big sister is far less dangerous than you think. She's just looking out for her sister, like any of you would do for each other," Renard reassured his son.

"Umm, Dad? What do you know about the Battle of Beacon?" Jaune asked, knowing well that facts were in short supply everywhere.

"Not much, just what I caught on the news once I got back into the Kingdom."

"Okay, so it boiled down to three people. Emerald and Mercury were just assassins, at least we think that's what they were there for. Cinder? Who the hell knows what _she_ was? Anyway, they got into Beacon masquerading as exchange students from Haven. Turns out they were a lot older and more experienced than the first years they claimed to be. Some people say that they were trying to blow up Beacon tower, but I don't know for sure. Anyway, somehow they were discovered, and when they went to arrest them, things went sideways. Long story short, when Yang and I got there, I saw Ruby fall to the ground, bleeding out with Emerald standing over her. I tried to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't enough. I couldn't…" Jaune paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath lest he break down in tears.

"There wasn't anything I could do. And then I found my semblance," Jaune added, still eternally grateful for that blessing. "I was able to heal her. I brought her back from the edge," he continued, voice quiet and wavering slightly. "I wish I could have done more. Helped more."

"As would anyone in your position. Did you do everything you could?" Ren asked, voice warm and firm, recognizing the anguish in his son's voice.

"Yes. It still eats at me, but yes."

"Then you're on the right path. You can't save them all, Jaune. You can try, but you'll eventually fail. It's what you do afterwards that makes you a Huntsman," he replied, with all the gentle authority he could muster.

"Yeah, that's what Ozpin told me," Jaune stated flatly, clearly not yet believing it himself. His father knew he would learn, eventually, much as he had.

"You were saying something about Ruby's sister?" Renard asked, shifting the conversation away from delving into deeper, darker subjects, wishing to keep such things to just the two of them.

"Oh, yeah. I didn't get to see it, but from what everyone else said, Yang lost it. First year student against a trained assassin, her rocket locker trapped under the rubble, and Yang beat her damn near to death with her _bare_ _hands_. Paramedics said it was a miracle she was still alive when they got there. I heard that she's in a coma in some secret hospital in Atlas, and that they don't think she'll ever wake up. So yeah, Yang scares the _crap_ outta me," Jaune concluded, his hand finding the back of his scalp once again.

"Besides, Dad, he's dating his partner," Saphron piped up cheerily.

"Traitor,," Jaune hissed.

"There's a story there," Rose opined with a sly grin.

"Oh, not you too!" the boy wailed before growling in irritation.

"Yeah, what was that lipstick color again, honey?" Saphron asked of the lone diner not graced with blue eyes.

"Okay, one, she was seeing me off for the summer, two, _it was on the cheek_!" Jaune protested, bordering on hysterical.

"Oh _I_ believe you, Jaune," Violette chimed in, her brother already wary of where she was going with it. "There's no _way_ you pulled that kind of quality girl," she finished the thought.

"Gee, _thanks_, Vi," he deadpanned.

"I live to serve!" she retorted brightly, being met with narrowed eyes from the target of her mischief.

"So, semblance, huh?" Renard graciously interjected, saving him from further embarrassment.

"Yeah. Basically, it's aura amplification. _I_ _think_. Haven't really had a chance to figure it out all that much," Jaune added, having made little progress in yet another aspect of being a Huntsman.

"You expend your own to amplify others, or is it more a direct transfer?" his father asked, legitimately interested.

"Both?" Jaune replied tentatively.

"Hmmm. Might be able to experiment a little before we leave Shion."

"Ren, you know I don't like you working on vacation," Rose warned.

"I _said_ a _little_, dearest," Renard averred. "_Besides_, this is our son," he added, getting only a soft growl from his wife.

"Umm, Dad? Aren't you forgetting something?" Olivia asked bluntly.

"We have to wait until we get home, dear. You want someone you trust to unlock your aura, and I don't know anyone here," Renard informed her.

"I'll do it," Jaune stated simply.

Again, father was brought to a baffled silence by son.

"Seriously?!" Olivia blurted, eyes wide at her good fortune.

"Right now," he added succinctly. "I don't know if I want either one of us to have a full stomach for this. It felt a little weird when Pyrrha did me."

"Phrasing?" his mother interjected before one of her smart-mouthed daughters could say something _truly_ inappropriate.

"He's right," Renard added. "And outside. Aura can be…_unpredictable_," he concluded cryptically. "Rose, take the girls, I need to speak to Jaune for a moment.

"All right. Come on ladies," she said, needing only a sliver of the authority she normally possessed to get everyone moving.

"Thank you," came a muffled voice as Olivia did her best Ivy impression, burying her face in her brother's shoulder as she tried to squeeze him to death. Seconds passed before she let go and moved out into the courtyard of the inn, joining the rest of the Arc women.

"You ever done this?"

"Nope."

"They still teaching this in first year aura studies?"

"Yeah, I think I've got a good grasp on it. I have a pretty sizable aura reserve to fall back on, if that helps," Jaune added.

"It might."

"You mentioned trust? Is there something I'm missing?"

Renard hesitated a moment before he spoke. "Many believe that when you unlock someone's aura, you leave a little bit of yourself behind. You're talking about basically merging souls, no matter how brief or how slight the contact."

"Makes sense," Jaune conceded.

"There is anecdotal evidence of a couple other aspects that I worry about. First is compatibility. I've never seen a confirmed case, but there are a few tales out there of unlockings gone wrong. All sorts of negative consequences, including one story of a pair so opposite each other that they _died,_" Renard stated ominously. "I'm not worried about _that_, obviously, Liv looks up to you, perhaps even more now. The other aspect is why I didn't want some random hunter doing this. There are quite a few people who believe that if you unlock another person's aura, you'll always feel pulled towards them, trying to be around that little piece of your soul that isn't there anymore. I'm sure you understand the implications."

"Ummm, yeah?" Jaune replied, trying to project confidence, and failing miserably.

"You'll figure it out," Renard replied with a soft smirk.

"I guess."

"You remember the words?"

"Mostly?"

"That's…_good_? It'll come to you," Renard added, allaying both of their fears with a smile and a wink. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he replied, rising from his seat.

* * *

The courtyard of the inn was small, but beautifully appointed. A koi pond with a half dozen of the ancient fish was partially covered by a small wooden bridge, deep brown decking contrasting with the intricately-carved railings painted a brilliantly deep red. The irregular granite flagstones were interrupted by small outcroppings of meticulously arranged stone, forming planter boxes containing primarily bamboo and jasmine, the latter heavily perfuming the late evening air. The sky overhead was splashed with brilliant reds and oranges as the early summer fled the sky, two strings of small, ornamental lanterns hanging between the rooftops surrounding the Arc family.

The women were all gathered on one of the wooden decks running along the face of the main building, and they parted to allow their father and brother through. Renard and Jaune took their place at the center of the bridge, the elder speaking briefly to the younger before they both turned to face the rest of their family. The patriarch of the family assumed a look of solemn authority, his imposing figure and wild mane of hair giving the impression of a lion, proud and noble as befitted the occasion. Jaune himself did his level best to not look silly, pulling off an air of maturity rather well, surprising all present.

"Olivia Katherine Arc, step forward," Renard pronounced in a warm, booming voice.

The young girl straightened herself, throwing her shoulders back before answering her father's call. Liv took her place on the bridge next to her brother, the two of them turning to face one another.

"Olivia, you stand at a crossroads. A fork, in the path of your life. You may continue, as you are, or you may choose to travel a darker road. One that carries with it a terrible burden, but supports the hope of all life on Remnant. Your choice is yours and yours alone to make, and neither carries shame, nor glory over the other," he pronounced, the only other noise heard being a soft chorus of crickets and the gentle burbling of the fountain at the opposite end of the pond.

"You have fully contemplated your path?" he asked.

"I have," she replied, voice strong and unwavering.

"Which do you choose?"

"I choose to stand against the long night, to walk in the shadows, that others may never fear the darkness."

"Do you make this choice willingly, without fear or reservation, pledging to hold to it with your sacred honor, until death take this burden from you?"

"I do," Olivia reiterated firmly with a slight nod as well.

"Then stand before your guide. As he speaks the oath, you will breathe out the old, shedding your life as you know it. When your guide is done, you shall be reborn, your journey begun anew with your first breath."

"Ready?" Jaune whispered softly, getting another nod from his little sister. For the briefest moment, he glanced at his father, reading the overwhelming, loving pride in his carriage, his deep blue eyes glistening ever so slightly. He did the same for Olivia, whose eyelids had fluttered closed in anticipation. Her face was a mask of rapt attention, eager energy threatening to bubble out of the already rambunctious girl.

Jaune swung his gaze further still, taking in the rest of his family with a nervous, yet warm, smile. His mother was already crying, but with a soft, matronly smile on her face denoting the heavily turbulent emotions within. Saphron and Terra both regarded the two siblings with pride, knowing that another Hunter from their family had taken up the call, willing to defend them and their unborn son to the bitter end. Marguerite was likewise a picture of pride, but slightly chagrined for ever having doubted her brother. Violette was, well, _Violette_, begrudgingly proud of the two runts who had followed immediately after her in the family, again making her feel inferior in the process. Pearl and Ivy both were beaming with pride at the two men in their lives being, well, _men_, protectors and mentors both to their older sister. And soft, gentle Peri regarded the proceedings with a reserved smile, peeking over a jasmine bush she was standing behind.

Jaune returned his attention to the task at hand, looking at Olivia with his own eyes threatening to blur before his left hand found her right temple, gently placing the fingertips of his right hand over her heart. With a moment's concentration, his aura flared to life, a gentle, shimmering white enveloping his hands and forearms as he searched for his target. The faintest glimmer, felt rather than seen, answered him, deep within her. A smooth, irregular mass of brilliant golden light appeared in his mind's eye, fiery and chaotic as currents of molten energy flowed through it. Reaching out with his aura, he could feel it, the searing, penetrating heat from her core that felt not unlike a sauna. Grasping Olivia gently, he could feel his own energies interact with hers, and he knew it was time. The trick, if one could even call it that, was to carefully push enough of one's own aura into your partner's, to the point where it was too much to contain and it erupted forth, suffusing their entire body. Jaune closed his eyes, thinking back to his own experience; brilliant, emerald green eyes and long, flowing red hair framing his entire existence for one brief moment in time.

Unbidden, her words came to his lips, or more correctly, the emotions she, _they_, had felt that day. He began to speak, voice reverent and calm, even as his soul seeped into Olivia's, slowly pushing her own to the bursting point.

"For it is in family that we gain immortality. Through this we become a paragon of harmony and strength to inspire all. Infinite in legacy and bound by blood, I unleash your soul, and by my shoulder uplift thee."

Olivia's eyes flew open, her head snapping back with one long gasp echoing through the courtyard as she took her first breath, a transformed young woman now standing before them all. She slowly returned to an approximation of a normal posture, looking down at her hands, a faintly flickering golden yellow visible for a brief moment to the three Arcs on the bridge before it faded to nothing.

"Greetings, Huntress. Your chosen path beckons," Renard said at last, his smile, and proud tears, more than enough to elicit the same from his daughter.

"That. Was. _AWESOME_!" Olivia shouted, barreling into her father and wrapping him in a fierce hug that he gladly returned for several seconds before ruffling her dirty blonde bob cut hair. "Daaaaaaad," she grumped.

"I don't care if you're a Huntress, you're still my little girl," Renard replied patiently as said little girl disengaged and attacked her brother with the same fervor.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she squealed into his chest, garnering a soft smile from her sibling as he returned the gesture. "Mooooom!" she cried, dashing over to the rest of her family, leaving Jaune and Renard on the bridge.

"What was all that?" Jaune asked quietly, still smiling at Olivia's energy.

"Hmm? Oh, Arc family tradition, handed down from the days of the Old Kingdoms. You would've gotten the same if…" he replied, trailing off before he reopened a sensitive subject again.

"I know," Jaune replied noncommittally.

"I can perform it again, if you'd like," he offered sincerely.

"No, I think I like making my own way," Jaune replied without a hint of bitterness.

"Speaking of, that wasn't the standard oath. Not like _I_ remember at least."

"It felt right," he said simply, prompting a simple moment of peace between father and son, even with the excited chatter of nine women nearby.

"Yeah, I like yours better too," Renard said warmly, clapping his son on the shoulder and pointing him towards the rest of the family with a gentle nod of the head.

"Thanks, Dad."


	4. Detente

**Chapter 4**

**Detente**

Jaune Arc was warm.

It was a pleasant sensation while home, and certainly while at Beacon, where the proximity to the ocean, altitude and northern latitude made for some exceptionally cold nights during the school year, but this was Shion, in central Anima, near to Remnant's equator, just as summer was beginning to take hold. Taken together, the circumstances had him positively _sweltering_. There was also a numbness in his left arm, a tingling emptiness he couldn't explain until he used his right to flip the thin duvet from his chest and found a tousled mop of dirty blonde hair obscuring his left shoulder. Spindly arms were wrapped possessively around his bicep, a waifish ten-year-old clinging to her brother for dear life.

"Ivyyyyy." Jaune said softly, at once exasperated and touched by the affection he knew his youngest sister held for him. He tried to move his pinned limb, only getting a soft, grumbling moan from her in response. "Come on, sprout."

"Noooooo," she protested weakly, her breath even hotter on his shoulder.

"You're getting too old for this," he chided her softly, ruffling her hair with his free hand.

"I missed you, Jaune," she added, her voice softer.

"And I missed you too, Ivy. But I can't feel my hand right now," he replied, already dreading the stinging that would accompany the return of circulation to the extremity. "Besides, I _really_ need to pee."

"Oh," she stated simply, practically ejecting herself from the bed.

"Why don't you go see what's for breakfast?" he asked, hopefully giving her a purpose other than continuing to cling to him long enough that he'd be able to get dressed. "I'll be down in a bit, okay?"

"Okay!" Ivy replied cheerfully, her bright smile catching her brother's heart for a moment before she skipped off, her nightshirt and pajama pants flapping in the breeze she generated before she closed the _shoji_ behind her.

Jaune briefly sniffed at his armpit, grimacing at the reek he found before he shucked the t-shirt off his frame. Wiping his pits with the already dirty garment, he tossed it in the general direction of the corner, where a few other pieces of dirty laundry resided. Digging into his pack, the nascent Huntsman found his penultimate change of underwear and donned them, a dirty pair of boxer briefs likewise finding its place on the floor. Throwing on his jeans, boots and hoodie, he completed the outfit with the newest addition to his kit; a simple sash of crimson that he secured immediately below his belts, the loose end dangling to just above his right knee. Flexing his left hand to banish the last of his numbness, he finally added the last piece to complete the look, dropping a well-worn curved blade onto his left hip, the scabbard securing easily through the frog on his belt.

Jaune took a personal moment, opening the small window next to his bed and looking out on the sunrise peeking over the nearby hills. Birdsong was the predominant instrument in Shion's mid-morning symphony, but various industrious villagers were also about their work already. The musical chime of hammer and anvil, the rasping rhythm of a nearby sawmill, the friendly chatter of a few old men in front of the inn playing _go_, the tall, willowy woman in the square patiently tuning a guqin; all contributed to the noise of a peaceful, prosperous village.

Slipping out into the hall as quietly as he could manage, Jaune tiptoed to the privy at the end of the hall, seeking not to disturb any of his mischief-minded sisters, and _especially_ not his parents right now. The evening prior had ended on mostly favorable terms, especially with Olivia's ceremony, but Jaune knew far too well that there were many questions he had yet to answer.

"And just where do you think _you're_ going?" Rose Arc asked from a now open _shoji_ immediately adjacent his destination, his mother working a brush through her long, wavy tresses.

"Just hitting the can, mom," her son replied. "Gimme a minute?"

"I can wait," she said, eyebrow cocked slightly as she leaned against the door jamb.

"Riiiight," Jaune replied with a nervous grin. "Be right out."

Closing the (thankfully) solid wooden door behind him, he numbly went about his business, a long sigh escaping his lungs at that first, glorious relief of the day. Allowing his thoughts to wander a bit in his post-wakeup fog, Jaune couldn't help but wonder what particular point, or, far more likely, _points_, his mother wanted to cover. Realizing he didn't have the time to go over every possibility without looking like he was stalling, he opted simply to zip up and face the music. A quick check of the mirror confirmed that his hair was its usual, slightly messy self, without a single strand _too_ awry, lest his mother decide to fix it like he was five again. Flushing the toilet, he waited until the rudest of that noise was finished before he opened the door, finding Rose Arc still waiting for him, along with his sister-in-law who was practically dancing with need in the hallway.

"Sorry, Terra," He said simply, ducking out of the pregnant woman's way with all the speed he could muster, getting a mumbled thanks before the door slammed shut behind him.

"Step into my parlor, Jaune," The Arc matriarch intoned coolly, getting immediate obedience from her only son. Rose simply glanced down the hallway before closing the paper-faced wooden frame behind her.

"Where's Dad?" Jaune asked quietly.

"Out with Liv," she replied evenly.

"Are you two…?"

"Good, not great. He didn't sleep on the floor, if that's any indication," she replied, which, given the general lack of couches as a concept in most of Anima, was a good thing. "But this is about _you_."

"Yeah," Jaune stated simply. "Lemme have it," he added, fully anticipating a verbal lashing. His mother narrowed her gaze at him, and he visibly cringed under the scrutiny of the person who knew him best of all.

"I've been patient, Jaune. Brothers _know_ I have. I've gotten by with six scrollmails for the entire school year. _Six_!" she hiss-whispered. "Not a single call to anyone but your _sister_, apparently," she added, none too pleased with _that_ tidbit.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Jaune began softly, prudently not mentioning his trip to Argus during winter break.

"Why?!"

"Because I didn't want you to worry."

"No," Rose declared flatly.

"What?"

"That's not the reason, and you and I _both _know it," she shot back, far less patient than her husband when faced with untruth and misdirection.

"Mom? Seriously, I didn't. There's more, but that part is true," he replied, his brain scrambling for the words that were stubbornly refusing to come to mind. "When I told you I'd left, and why, you remember what you told me?"

"That we loved you, Jaune. And that we wanted the best for you," she said warmly.

"And that it was okay if it didn't work out," he added, voice dark and slightly pained. "You never thought I'd make it."

"In fairness, I was kind of with your father on that one. You didn't exactly give us confidence. We thought it was just a matter of finding something that clicked with you," she confided guiltily.

"Yeah, I can't say that I blame you. _Much_," Jaune admitted. "But if I knew you were worrying about me too much, I don't know if I could've kept going," he added. "I needed this, Mom. And I needed you to leave me alone long enough to do it."

"We're your _parents_, Jaune. It's our _job_ to worry about you."

"And you and Dad wouldn't have marched to Beacon and demanded I come home if you'd found out the truth?"

"I...won't say that wouldn't have crossed my mind," Rose said softly.

Jaune sighed softly, his head shaking a bit. "I _know _I'm your only son, unless you and Dad are…"

"Oh, Brothers, no. We're _done _with having kids. Your father got snipped. _So_ much better than having to use...well, you know," she reassured him cheerfully with a suggestive smirk thrown in.

"I...did not need to know that," Jaune replied, blinking twice and then shuddering in disgust.

"You'll understand one day," Rose added with a gentle smile.

"Not at the rate _I'm_ going," He grumbled.

"Regardless, Jaune, we love you as much as any of your sisters. We only wanted what was best for you," she replied, trying to reassure them both. "I just wish we could have seen it at the time, okay?"

"I guess," he answered softly, scratching at the back of his scalp nervously.

"Assuming this _is_ the best for you, that is," Rose said skeptically, hedging her bet in an arena she had little firsthand knowledge of. "I'm still going to worry, but at least it's a worry I know how to deal with already. So long as you actually _communicate_ with me, Jaune," she scolded him, returning to the crux of the issue.

"I'll try, I promise. I can't guarantee anything, though, second year is supposed to be _brutal_," Jaune added, Sun Wukong's horror stories convincing enough that he at least paid them heed. If the mischievous monkey faunus wasn't just screwing with his head, that is. "I've still got a lot of catching up to do, and the book stuff's never been easy for me either."

"Don't remind me," Rose replied drily. "Do they even hand out report cards at Beacon?"

"I'm...not sure, actually," Jaune hesitated, scratching his neck again in bewilderment. "I can send you my transcripts when I get back, if you really want them."

"That might give your father and I a little less to worry about, yes."

"Okay."

"Now, about this girlfriend of yours…"

"I don't have one, Mom. Seriously, just let it go," Jaune replied irritably.

Rose Arc regarded him with the Raised Eyebrow of Doom™, so named by Violette; a matronly stare of irresistible power that brought her son to his metaphorical knees in seconds.

"I mean, there was this one girl, but it didn't work out. She was into someone else. Aaaand, I kinda blew it coming on too strong," he amended quickly.

"_Was_ into someone else?" His mother quickly gleaned from the dialog.

"Yeah, exchange student only there for the semester. Nice guy, really, if a little bit of a flake," Jaune added softly, remembering the few interactions he'd had with Neptune Vasilias. "But yeah, we're just friends now. Slightly awkward, but friends," he qualified.

"You never know, Jaune. People change."

"Yeah, but not Weiss Schnee."

"Weiss Schnee?" Rose asked, eyes going wide.

"Yes, _that_…" Jaune began, rolling his eyes before his mother cut him off.

"The singer?" she asked breathlessly.

"What?" he blurted, blinking in disbelief at what his mother had chosen to focus on.

"You remember? Your father took me to a benefit concert she had a few years ago. Backstage passes and everything!" Mama Arc gushed. "How'd you meet such a talented artist?"

"She's my classmate," Jaune stated simply. "Lives across the dorm hall from us."

"She's a _huntress_?" Rose asked, dumbfounded.

"Yup. Damn good one too," Jaune reaffirmed, hoping his mother wouldn't ask for details on any of the humiliating losses he'd incurred in sparring matches with her.

"But she's so…_tiny_," his mother said in disbelief, remembering how she herself had towered over the girl when they'd met.

"I _know_, right?" He replied, hoping for his sake that Weiss wasn't anywhere on the _continent _to hear him voice such blasphemy.

"Beautiful girl though; voice of an angel," Rose continued to compliment.

"And a tongue sharper than her sword," Jaune retorted, taking the wind from his mother's sails.

"Well, there's someone for everyone, Jaune. You never know when you're going to find love. I didn't expect to fall for one of my patients, you know. Had plenty of huntsmen flirting with me in the trauma ward," she began, her son already beginning to tune out the story he'd heard on multiple occasions.

Thankfully, or possibly not, Jaune was saved from the recap by the star of the story himself, his father sliding open the _shoji_ and startling his wife.

"Oh! That was quick. Thought you were going to be gone all morning?" she stated curiously.

"Guy didn't have…" Renard grumbled before he came up short, his voice switching to chilling disgust in an instant. "What's _that_?" he demanded.

"What's what?" Jaune asked nervously.

"On your hip," he clarified darkly, the sword and scabbard, while of obvious quality to anyone with an eye for such things, were quite definitely _not_ the Arc family heirloom.

"This? It's a loaner," he stated easily, unsure as to the problem. "Crocea Mors is getting a little work done at the weaponsmith's, so I've got this one for now."

"You didn't pawn it, did you?" Renard asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"What!? No!" Jaune spluttered.

"Ren?" Rose chimed in, clearly not liking where the conversation was going.

"Shion doesn't _have_ a weaponsmith. Nothing a Huntsman would use, certainly," her husband clarified for her.

"Casian is staying outside the village. He's kind of a free spirit, I guess you'd call it. I was actually heading out to see him after breakfast, if you'd like to meet him. Maybe bring Liv too? He's got some stuff on hand," Jaune tacked on, hoping to at least have a semi-neutral third party present should the conversation turn sour.

"That sounds like a _wonderful _idea, don't you think, my love?" Rose chimed in, cutting her husband off before he could answer, his mouth already forming words. He sealed his lips, fixing her with a firm gaze for several moments, which she returned with a fierce smile that dared him to gainsay her.

"Fine," Renard conceded simply, exercising the better part of valor for now. "Grab something portable, Jaune. You need to get used to eating on the move," he justified, the slightest edge of a challenge just under the surface.

"Sure," he replied confidently, once again shrugging off the skepticism with knowledge of the truth. "Excuse me," he added, Renard stepping aside to allow him through the door before following after.

"Olivia!" Renard shouted, the girl's head poking out from the room she shared with Pearl as he retrieved his own weapon from where it leaned against the door jamb. "Jaune says he might have something for you to look at," he added, putting the burden on his son should the expedition prove to be a waste of time.

"Lemme pee first!" she called back with the discretion of a typical teenager.

"We'll be downstairs, Liv!" Jaune called back, descending the stairs to the lobby in search of sustenance.

Spotting the dining room still open, and still with some food on the table, Jaune trotted over to take stock of his options. For portability's sake, he selected a pair of steamed buns filled with pork glazed with a rich, brown sauce, as well as a half dozen of the small buns with sweet bean paste filling he remembered from his childhood trips to Shion.

"May I?" he heard Renard intone from behind him. Turning about, his mouth full of a third pork bun, Jaune could only offer a raised eyebrow in question before he saw his father eyeing the blade at his hip.

"Mhmm," he answered, nodding his head once to reinforce the semi-verbal reply, swiveling his hip forward in order to keep his food in hand.

Renard took the sword from him, scabbard and all, and began examining the weapon with a practiced eye. The sheath was covered mostly in tooled leather, bright fixtures of brass highlighting the rich brown cowhide at the tip, mouth and frog stud. The leather itself was heavily tooled, with recent material if the faint odor of a tannery was any indication, rose vines being the predominant motif. The hilt was of a single handed design, with a moderately sized steel crossguard and a noticeable curve at the pommel to prevent slippage. The handle itself was wrapped with braided steel wire, exhibiting a deep black patina where the wielder's grip wouldn't naturally polish. He drew the blade, a rasping ring sounding in the confines of the room as brass and steel parted ways. The blade itself was slightly curved, resembling a cutlass, with a sharp turn at the tip as the edge met the spine, just over two feet from the crossguard. It had a broad, single-edged blade just over two inches wide, and nearly a quarter thick. Renard inspected it closely, checking the true of the blade as well as a gentle sideways rub of the thumb across the edge in several spots to test the edge. Continuing his silent evaluation, Jaune's father took a closer look at several slots cut through the length of the blade close and parallel to the spine, a quarter inch wide and nearly two inches in length.

"Blood grooves?" he asked disdainfully, a common misconception amongst novice swordsmen and smiths alike.

"Inserts go in there for small dust crystals. Casian pulled them out because I don't have any experience using something like that," Jaune clarified, getting a soft grunt of understanding in response.

"Is this the best he had for a loan?" Renard asked. "The balance is so different from Crocea Mors."

"He said it was his most valuable piece. A relic that belonged to his grandfather."

"And you believed him?" he asked, again skeptical.

"He _was_ wearing it at the time," Jaune offered, popping a bite-sized bean bun into his mouth.

"So this Casian fellow didn't _make _the blade, then."

"I guess not? Everything else he had looked pretty well made," Jaune shrugged.

Renard regarded his son for a long moment, eyes narrowed as he pondered the information before him. Reaching a decision, he closed his eyes, sighing softly before opening them again, all trace of ill temper vanishing from his face. He snapped the sword back into its scabbard, offering both back to his son without a word. Jaune switched his last pork bun to his other hand, licking his free fingers before taking the weapon and replacing it on his hip.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, then," Ren said, _almost _managing to hide his unwillingness to do so. "How far from town are we going?"

"About two miles. Found the camp doing an early morning run a couple days ago," Jaune replied easily.

"Camp?" his father asked, an eyebrow raising in suspicion.

"You'll see. Hey, Liv, you eat yet?" he asked as his younger sister came barreling down the stairs.

"Yeah. Have to keep this huntress body fueled for all the asskickin' I'm gonna do!" she replied with a toothy grin.

"Liv," Renard gently chided. "Choose your words carefully. If you stand around and brag, people will wonder if you're trying to snow them. If you act like a Huntress, you'll never have to remind people what you are. They'll instantly be able to tell without a single word, which is helpful when you don't have time to talk. Jaune, who's the most capable and intimidating of your professors?" he asked, probing his son's life at the same time as he reinforced the lesson to his daughter.

"Goodwitch, hands down. Even _before _I knew what a nightmare she is to fight. Three student teams simultaneously, if you're wondering, Liv. She just walks into the room and demands respect from the way she carries herself," Jaune added, voice a mixture of fear and admiration for the stern huntress.

"She was always like that. She was a first year when I graduated. Almost the entire student body was terrified of the girl. Especially after she finally forced that Winchester idiot to actually take _no_ for an answer," Renard added conspiratorially. "Point being, Olivia, that a hunter is more than just a person who kills Grimm. They are a beacon of hope when all other lights have gone out. A good Huntsman can walk into a village on the brink of being overrun, and the people there will know that things are looking up. They have hope. And how does that help _you_, young lady?" her father asked, bringing the lesson to a close.

"I mean, fans are nice and all, but...that's not what you're looking for," she began, trailing off as Renard's disapproving gaze bore down on her. After a pregnant pause, her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers. "It lowers the negativity!" she finally shouted, her father's warm, slight smile all the reward she needed.

"Which means?" he asked, prodding her train of thought further.

"Less Grimm. Less casualties even!" Olivia finished, her own smile beaming.

"Exactly. Everything about you is something that gets seen, examined and evaluated by the people we help. If they don't have confidence in you, you're going to have a tough row to hoe. Remember that, both of you," he said sagely, concluding the lesson for now. "You both ready then?" Renard asked, getting a muffled affirmative from his still-eating son and a simple nod from his daughter.

Jaune took his cue, grabbing the last two pork buns from the platter before making his way to the front of the inn and out into the summer daylight, the other two Arcs trailing close behind him. The climate was currently tolerable, bordering on warm, with middling humidity not aggravating the sunshine as a gentle breeze blew through the trees surrounding Shion. Jaune double checked that his temporary sword was secure before taking the main road out of town to the southwest.

"So we're getting me a weapon?" Olivia asked eagerly.

"Maybe. Remember what I told you."

"What you drilled into my skull? Yeah, Dad, I remember," Olivia replied testily.

"Good. Just don't want you getting your hopes up, sweetheart."

"Yeah, yeah," she demurred, trotting forward a bit to draw even with her brother. "So what's Beacon like?"

"Mmmph?" he managed, taking a moment to finish chewing the last of his breakfast before answering her. "In a word, _hard_," he replied succinctly.

"_That's_ helpful," Olivia replied sarcastically.

"And that's also four years down the road. You going to Pharos for prep school?" he asked, his father's pride in his alma mater very much a topic of conversation over the years.

"I dunno. I applied everywhere, improve my chances, ya know?"

"And?

"Got accepted to Pharos, Sanctum, Charter and Signal."

"Nice!"

"The family name _does _have its benefits, Jaune," his father chimed in warmly, vicarious pride in his children's achievements, and those of his lineage, never something the seasoned Huntsman passed up.

"So where do you _want _to go?" Jaune asked.

"Haven't made up my mind. I don't have to reply to any of them before we get home, so I thought I'd ask around. Both of you two, for starters, any other Huntsmen we might run into," she added. "Only one I think I'm a hard no on is Charter. Pharos, I can stay at home, Sanctum I can go live with Saph, I guess."

"What about Signal?" Jaune prodded.

"I'm not sure about that one. I mean, being close to Vale is nice and all, but I would have to board there. No _way_ I'd commute from the outskirts of the Kingdom every day."

"And not having any family there for support doesn't help either," Renard added helpfully, his own recommendation quite clear.

"Umm, Dad?" Jaune stopped in his tracks, eyeing his father with a raised eyebrow. The elder Arc halted as well, taking a moment to process his son's query before he understood.

"Sorry," he muttered softly. "I'm still getting used to this, Jaune."

"That's fair," he replied, the barest edge of hurt nicking at his vocal cords. "Besides, she'd still have to board at Signal. Not like she can live with me and my team. Could still see each other on the weekends, though."

"Pfft, like I'd _wanna _be seen in public with you, bunny boy," Olivia shot back.

"Pumpkin Pete is my spirit animal," Jaune huffed.

"He's a cereal mascot."

"I stand by what I said," Jaune replied haughtily, resuming his walk. Weiss would be proud.

"She does have a point, son. Remember what I said about a Hunter's presence?" Renard added, _almost_ avoiding patronizing him.

"I normally wear armor over this. That's being worked on too."

"Fair enough," Renard replied, wondering just how much the boy was being fleeced.

"As long as we're talking about it, are you adopting the family sigil, Liv?" Jaune asked, both curious and attempting to deflect scrutiny until he had the rest of his currently-being-upgraded kit in front of the man.

"Yeah. Dad won't let me hear the end of it if I don't," she grumbled half-heartedly.

"We Arcs have a proud and noble tradition of service, Olivia. There are many doors that will open to your name alone, it would be foolish to decline such opportunities," Renard replied righteously.

"For the ten _thousandth_ time, I _know_, Dad," Liv replied testily. Her father, veteran of _five_ teenagers now, shrugged it off with a shake of the head.

A comfortable silence overtook them for a few minutes, the three of them enjoying the scenery as each step down the road took them further into the wilds of Anima. The high grass, as yet unscorched by the height of the summer sun, rustled quietly in the gentle breeze, the occasional snippet of birdsong echoing through the trees.

In a split second, this all changed, Jaune _feeling_ more than hearing his father unlimber his weapon, racking a round into the chamber of its built-in shotgun the barest moment after his own blade had sung from its scabbard. They both looked to their flanks, instinctively putting Olivia between them as two pairs of blue eyes scanned the forest.

"Grimm?" Jaune asked quietly.

"No. Something else," Renard replied suspiciously.

Several seconds passed before the trio was startled by a large, spotted deer bolting from the forest fifty feet behind them, hooves clawing desperately at the soft ground, attempting to accelerate before two blurs of gray leapt from the opposite side of the path. They barreled into the frantic deer, knocking it easily to the ground as five more followed their prey from the forest, the small wolf pack tearing into the unfortunate animal, its panicked bleating cut short merifcully quickly.

"Bet you'll never look at Willy Wolfie the same, eh Liv?" Renard asked quietly after several moments' examination of the forest for stragglers.

"I haven't watched those cartoons since I was _five_," Olivia groused softly, still grimacing as they devoured the poor animal alive. Her discomfort was magnified when one of them raised its bloody muzzle from the fresh kill, deep amber eyes keenly regarding the three of them for a moment before returning to the feast, one half-drooped ear flopping almost comically with each bite taken.

"Guess we're not going back through there, huh?" Jaune asked in a low voice.

"Not a good idea, no. There's something else at work here," Renard added thoughtfully, shotgun still trained on the pack. "That shouldn't have happened. Wolves in the wild wouldn't have ignored us like that. They'd either have stayed in the shadows, or attacked us outright if they were starving."

"They're not afraid of humans?" Jaune asked apprehensively.

"It would appear not," he replied. "Nice reflexes, by the way," Renard added.

"Thanks," Jaune and Olivia both replied before both men started, cutting their gaze to the girl between them.

"What?" she asked, her shoulders dropping from a combat stance, arms relaxing to lower the pair of punch daggers she'd produced from...somewhere.

"Where'd you get those?" her father asked, his mood unreadable.

"Guy at the fair," Olivia admitted sheepishly. "Needed _something_. Not like I've got a lot of lien for stuff."

"Hmmph. Well, not like I'm _surprised_. You'll learn patience, Liv. Someday," Renard grumbled.

"Come on, still a little ways to go," Jaune interjected. "I'll take point," he added, tone bereft of anything but grim determination. Renard merely offered a tilt of the head as his son preemptively adopted the strategy he would have; placing the better fighter against the known threat and effecting a tactical withdrawal.

A few hundred yards further on, the trio of Arcs allowed themselves to relax a bit, Renard's stowage of his weapon prompting his children to do likewise. Jaune cast his gaze about, taking in the forest once more, and saw something he hadn't been expecting.

Renard Arc was smiling.

Softly, faintly, but it was there nonetheless. Jaune couldn't help but feel a small measure of pride in that.

"Hey, Liv?" Jaune began as they continued to walk.

"Yeah?"

"How'd you convince Dad? If you don't mind me asking," Jaune demurred.

"You remember Joey Brandywine?" Olivia replied.

"I already don't like where this is going," Jaune grumbled, far too familiar with the teenaged bully.

"Well, remember when he was picking on Ivy last year? She was terrified to go to school. I told you, and you put a stop to it," Olivia recounted, her voice going quiet. "I got to thinking, after hearing Dad talk about a mission once. The looks in their eyes. Fear. Terror. Just like I saw with her. No one should have to live in fear," she continued, her deeply blue eyes looking into the distance. "I hate bullies. And the Grimm are the biggest bullies in all of Remnant," she concluded simply, voice almost growling.

"That's...actually really good," Jaune replied, giving his sister a soft smile. She had never been his favorite, but Jaune always knew where he stood when it came to Olivia. "Do I need to go have another chat with the little cretin?"

"Nah. I took care of it," Liv stated off-handedly.

"Took care of it?"

"Yeah, about three weeks into the school year, when he realized you weren't coming back any time soon and started up again. I stopped him," she answered smugly.

"You broke his jaw in three places, Liv," Renard interjected, voice a mixture of pride and consternation. "An action which I cannot in good conscience condone!" he shouted back over his shoulder, as if he suspected someone was listening.

"Permanently," she clarified, cracking the knuckles of her right hand. "My Savate _professeur_ said I'd be a shoo-in to move up from _assaut _to _pre-combat_ by the end of the summer, but if I'm going to a combat prep school, that's kind of a moot point, huh?"

"You'd be woefully outmatched at the professional level, anyway, Olivia. For now," Renard added, trying to soothe her disappointment. "Besides, you're going to be far too busy with actual combat training for extra…" he said, trailing off.

The breeze died off for a moment, and they could all hear it; the song of hammer and anvil, clear as a bell.

"We're here," Jaune stated simply.


	5. Wanderlust

**Chapter 5**

**Wanderlust**

The trees thinned, allowing the trio of Arcs to see the camp at last, three tall wagons, nearly thirty feet long, arranged in an open box configuration. A large, blue canvas canopy covered the open center of the formation, a single stout pole peaking the center. The wagons themselves were rather flamboyant affairs, the walls painted in rich, if not garish, colors, each panel trimmed in intricately baroque borderwork. The lone concession to modern technology visible were the large rubber tires gracing each pair of axles, front and back, doubtlessly an improvement over simple wooden wheels in locales where torrential rains could turn the ground to soup. A short distance away, a quartet of roan-colored draft horses peacefully grazed without a care in the world.

The entire scene was almost idyllic, a sort of calm, innocent rejection of high technology for a simpler life. One filled with color and warmth, if the decor was to be believed. Yet…

"You left. My father's sword." Renard Arc began, diction cold, slow and measured, his tone that of weaponized paternal disappointment. "With the Tiganii?"

"Umm, yeah?" Jaune replied hesitantly.

"A people with a reputation, many would say _well-earned_, throughout Remnant as nomadic, thieving tricksters? _Those_ Tiganii?"

"Not everyone says that," Jaune defended as best he could. "Besides, Casian is really friendly!"

"So are Grimm oil salesmen," Renard muttered bitterly.

"Give him a chance, Dad. Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet, right?" Jaune chimed in for good measure.

"Remind me to thank your mother for that one," his father grumbled.

In the center of the box, they could see a swarthy, dark-skinned man working tirelessly with a hammer on anvil, carefully pounding a blade into shape from raw, heated steel. Brown eyes squinted slightly against the orange glow of the metal, the light sheen of sweat beading on his forehead held at bay by a headband of braided red cloth that also served to tie back his shoulder-length, curly black hair, a robust gold ring in each ear. A smith's leather apron hid most of his clothing, and deep blue shirtsleeves were rolled up revealing the hairiest arms Renard Arc had ever seen. Black pants tucked into calf length brown leather boots completed the ensemble, the smith's eyes cutting up briefly to acknowledge the three visitors as he continued to work.

"A moment, please, he said simply, his accent thick, but not unpleasantly or unintelligibly so. He resumed his work with small, precise hammer blows, the pings ringing from the anvil softer now than before. The tongs holding the blade blank flipped it vertically every few taps to check the true of the edge, the gentle rhythm almost hypnotic. After a minute, the smith seemed satisfied, the dull red color of the metal indicating he was done for the moment, and he turned, sliding the meter-long blank into a narrow annealing oven to keep the temperature closer to workable while he spoke.

"_Lachi tiri divés_, Mister Arc! So good to see you again!" he said warmly, shucking the apron and hanging it on a peg affixed to the tentpole behind him. He retrieved a vest hanging from an adjacent peg, black velvet intricately embroidered in vivid colors, largely forest animals with a background and borders rife with a repeated motif of rose vines. The back, briefly visible as he donned it with practiced ease, was dominated by a wreath of roses, both red and white.

"Casian Râuri, this is my father, Renard Arc, and my sister, Olivia," Jaune began, trying to keep his father civil through polite interaction.

"_Vânător_?" Casian asked. Getting a blank stare from all three Arcs, he continued. "Huntsman?" he clarified in the common tongue of Remnant.

"Yes! Both of them, actually!" Jaune added hastily, glad that the misunderstanding had passed so easily.

"Ah! An honor to meet you, Mister Arc, young lady. How may I serve you?" Casian asked warmly.

"I understand you're doing work on my father's sword," Renard said evenly.

"Indeed. A wonderful weapon with a rich history, I'd wager. Sanusian steel, finest quality," Casian complimented easily.

"May I see it?" Renard replied, a slight edge creeping into his voice.

"Of course!" he answered, turning about to walk to a small workbench. He returned with Crocea Mors in hand, along with a larger, tablet-sized scroll. Setting the Arc heirloom on the anvil, he slid the sword from its scabbard, presenting it hilt first to Jaune, who took it gingerly under his father's gaze. The both of them were taken slightly aback by the numerous black lines and hashmarks adorning the blade courtesy of a grease pencil.

"Here," Casian began, starting up the scroll tablet and showing both men a set of schematics. "I believe this addresses every one of your concerns, Mister Arc. An enlarged crossguard to prevent overpenetration."

"Gut stabbed an Ursa during the breach of Vale. Ended up elbow deep and when it fell and rolled I lost my sword," Jaune sheepishly explained to his father. "Scariest minute of my life," he added, his hand finding the back of his neck.

"At least you learned from it, right?" Renard asked his son.

"Yeah. Don't stab ursai below the ribcage," Jaune grumbled in annoyance.

"You get that, Liv?" he asked his daughter.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied absently.

"As a huntress you can either learn from others' stupid mistakes, or hope that you survive your own. Which do you think hurts less?" he added, Jaune grunting softly in annoyance. "Not everyone can shrug off hits with an aura pool like yours, Jaune."

"How?" Jaune asked in bewilderment.

"You think I wasn't paying attention last night? You unlocked another Aura without even breaking a sweat. Most hunters would have been at least winded," Renard replied.

"Oh," Jaune said simply, his mind wandering back to Pyrrha's own exhaustion during initiation.

"Which one would you prefer?" Casian interjected, swiping across the tablet to reveal a sketch of several different styles.

"Umm, that one. Wait. Can you kind of...mash those two together?" Jaune asked.

"I can certainly do that. Carry the design into the hilt and pommel as well?"

"Sure," Jaune shrugged. Image mattered, but he wasn't obsessed with it.

"Very well. Now to address your other problems," he began, swiping again to move to the next sketch. "New blade geometry will help prevent binding when cleaving through bone plate, and the tip is also an improvement for armor piercing. Should be able to punch through an Ursa skull no problem," Casian assured him.

"What are those for?" Jaune asked, pinch-zooming in to point at a feature on the schematics.

"The blade will be thicker at the spine; they cut some weight and keep the balance the same."

"So..._not_ blood grooves," Jaune added for his father's benefit.

"What? _No_. What a stupid idea," Casian retorted. "Now, for your last problem. Reach," he continued, swiping across the tablet once more. "A few more inches added to the hilt for leverage and balance should the need arise," he began, pointing to the screen. "And when activated, you've got..._this_," Casian concluded, swiping to the final picture.

"Nice," Jaune offered with a smile, before he squinted, leaning forward to examine the schematic in closer detail. "Wait a minute," he said softly, drawing his father's gaze in as well.

"Is that what I think it is?" Renard asked.

"Quite," Casian replied with a proud smile. "Minimal additional weight, maximum impact. Also upgrading the attachment points for the scabbard _here_, aaaand..._here._ Integrated into a proper baldric, as well as the vambrace, pauldron, and the back of your cuirass. Speaking of, I already have the armor sketched out," he added, one final swipe showing a much improved breastplate composed of several large interlocked plates, gauntlets, full vambraces and couters for both arms, and a much larger pauldron for his shield arm.

Jaune paused for several moments, sapphire eyes darting to and fro over every detail on the display. "So...whaddya think?" he asked quietly.

Renard shot his son a sidelong glance full of disbelief. "Oh, _now_ you care what I think?"

"Dad," Jaune replied flatly.

"Your grandfather…"

"Dad!" He interjected with a growl. "I'm asking for _input_, not _permission_."

"Jaune…"

"I would _love_ to have your support and acceptance, but I'm fine without it. I would've thought you understood that by now," Jaune shot back with barely concealed venom. "I'm asking my father, a _Huntsman _I have the _utmost_ respect for, his opinion on a weapon. That's it."

Renard regarded his son with narrowed eyes, weighing his words carefully for several moments before he spoke. "Well, I'm not going to be a hypocrite, considering my father wasn't exactly a fan of Shadowbane either," he began, unhitching his weapon and resting the pommel on the ground, the top of the axehead providing a resting point for Renard's elbow nearly four feet from the ground. "It's a departure, but not excessively so. Casian is right; this _does_ address all of those issues. But I have two questions," he added, looking the Tigan in the eyes.

"Yes, Mister Arc?" Casian answered evenly.

"First, how do I even know you can pull off something this ambitious? That's a nice blade my son's wearing, but it's not your work," Renard stated soberly.

"No, it is not. I learned to work steel from my grandfather, who forged _Trandafir_," he began, indicating the blade on Jaune's hip. "Now, I'm no Alastair Shaw," he continued, turning about to work a latch on the bottom of the wagon behind him. "But I make do," he concluded, lifting a ten foot wide panel a full ninety degrees before sliding it back into the wagon to stow it.

This revealed a half dozen drawers running the width of the panel, the bottom-most nearly a foot deep, the others half that. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Casian selected the third drawer from the bottom, pulling it out completely and allowing it to pivot and drop nearly vertical. A panel of green velvet held a grid of holes, mounting points for pegs and hooks to secure nearly a dozen weapons in place. Casian selected a single-headed axe of nearly the same proportion as Shadowbane, offering it haft-first to the skeptical Renard. He laid his own weapon against the anvil before accepting the axe, beginning to evaluate it with a keen eye.

The axe head was the opposite of Shadowbane, in that the bulk of the cutting edge was forward of the attachment point, forming a bulky bayonet for the large caliber rifle that made up the rest of the weapon. A small, spur-like buttstock jutted from the pommel, with a sharply raked, thumbhole-style pistol grip about a foot and a half up the haft, and a short bolt handle protruding from the left side ten inches further up.

"Left-handed?" Renard asked.

"Action is a Mistrali type K. Seven point five millimeter, straight pull bolt action; the pistol grip allows enough leverage to be able to cycle the bolt with a finger on the trigger, so I switched it. Keeps the hand working the bolt out of the ejection path as well," Casian replied, getting a grunt of understanding from Renard. "I've thought of converting it to a pump action, but I haven't had the time to figure out how to make the mechanism simple and reliable enough."

Renard stepped into the center of the wagons and began working through basic training forms with the axe, starting with simple, chopping swings before moving to sweeping, circular motions. Power and grace were on display in spades, Renard Arc a blur of lethal motion before one last sweep brought the blade into an overhead slam that stopped a mere inch from a log that had been placed under the canopy as a makeshift seat.

"Balance seems a little front-heavy," Renard stated flatly, getting a raised eyebrow from Casian before he snapped his fingers.

"Almost forgot. Ten round box magazine," he said, retrieving and tossing it to Renard. He examined it briefly, noting the lack of ammunition, before slotting it home in the rifle's action, a few more experimental swings confirming the problem to be fixed. "Balance is far more important when the weapon is empty," Casian added.

"Indeed," Renard replied appreciatively, stepping back to the group and returning the axe in the same manner he had received it, the smith replacing it in its spot and sliding the drawer back into place.

"And you, young huntress! Which of my wares would you evaluate to prove my skills to your father?" Casian asked warmly.

"Umm, all of them?" Olivia replied hesitantly, not expecting to be put on the spot.

"That's am...bitious?" he replied quizzically. "Let's start with something close to what you wield."

"I don't have a weapon yet," Liv replied sullenly.

"Are you shopping, then?" he asked evenly, not having to apply pressure personally, Olivia's expectant smile doing all the selling for him.

"Yes," Renard replied with a gentle nod.

"Yes!" his daughter echoed exuberantly.

"Very well. Any other older siblings? All the same parents?" he began, drawing raised eyebrows from all three Arcs.

"Three sisters, and yes," Renard volunteered.

"How tall?"

"Umm, Saph is like five-five, Vi and Margie are a little taller," Jaune helpfully added

"So you've likely got a little bit of growing yet, but not so much I need to take it into account."

"Probably, yes," Renard replied, beginning to see Casian's thought process.

"Let me see your hands," he continued, taking Olivia's hands in his own. He examined the calluses carefully before turning them palm down and peering intently at her scarred knuckles. "Boxer?" he asked.

"_Savateur_," she replied proudly, before she realized she had lost him. "Basically, Savate is boxing, but with some kicks thrown in."

"Does it have any native weapons?"

"Yeah. Dagger, knife, staff, cane. _Buuuuut_, I haven't learned any of them yet."

"Ah. Show me your combat stance," he replied, watching closely as she complied. Olivia's feet spread shoulder width apart, her right sliding back slightly, tensed on the balls of her feet. Her hands were raised just above the shoulders, elbows and knees bent and primed to strike. "Give me some punches," he added, holding his hands up loosely, palms out for lack of training pads. Olivia gave him her best, and several jabs, crosses and uppercuts later, Casian dropped her targets.

"Differing strengths in your hands; is that style or strength?"

"Little of both maybe?" she replied ambivalently.

"Hmm. A moment," he replied, striding to the trailer on his left and hopping up into the back.

Jaune gave his father a sidelong glance, trying to discern his thoughts on what was happening. "I see where he's going with this," Renard said softly.

Casian returned, steps light as he practically danced back to the anvil, setting down two small stacks of poker chips, one red and one blue. "Arms out in front of you, palms down," he instructed Olivia. Placing two red chips on the back of her right hand, and two blue on the left, he looked her in the eye. "You need to catch each chip in the hand I have placed them upon, understand?" he asked, getting a simple nod from Liv before he stepped back to give her room.

Without warning, Casian leaned forward to slap the girl's hands from underneath, sending the poker chips flying. Liv's gaze shot upwards, plotting her movements in a split second before she darted into action, plucking the paired targets out of the air, holding them out on display with an eager smile. Casian plucked them out of her open palms, returning her smile with a roguish wink. "Reset," he said simply, placing four chips on each hand and repeating the process, this time angling his strikes diagonally outward, testing how widely she could move in a short span of time. Olivia again managed, but not without some difficulty, catching the last chip at knee height. "Again," Casian said, her targets now up to six per hand. This set was flipped up and slightly inward, causing them to mix chaotically. The budding huntress grunted with the effort, desperately trying to complete her task, only to have one blue chip bounce off her outstretched foot and land on the soft loam below.

"Damn it," she muttered softly.

"Impressive. Not quite two hands, but close," he complimented the girl. "Dual weapons, then. How about ranged options? Close, medium, long?"

"I don't think you've got the patience to be a sniper, Liv," her father offered.

"_Daaaaaaaad_," she grumbled, his point clearly unwelcome, but not actually _incorrect_. "_Fine_. I like up close and personal anyway." Olivia Arc added.

"Type?" Casian asked, drawing a brief, bewildered stare from the huntress. "Firearm, dust, other?"

"Oh, ummmm, _yes_?" She answered, obviously not having thought this far ahead.

"Hmmm. Do you prefer to parry, block or dodge?"

"Whatever works," Liv replied, not understanding how well her combat training would translate to fighting the creatures of grimm.

"Twinned weapons or versatility?" he asked, getting another thoughtful pause from Olivia.

"Versatility fits me to a T." she replied with a cocky smile, Casian's smile faltering a moment.

"_La naiba!_" he muttered. "Magda!" he shouted towards the wagon on his right.

A few seconds later, a dark haired woman, slightly lighter complected than Casian though easily his contemporary, poked her head from the door mounted near the front. "_Da_, _draga mea_?"

"Tea for our guests!" he called back, smiling wide for the woman. "I cannot believe I forgot my manners!"

"_Me mangav tut_," she fired back playfully, ducking back into the wagon again.

"Love you too!" Casian called back before returning his attention to the matter at hand. "I believe I may have something for you," he added, slender fingers trailing over the drawer pulls behind him before he drew the top one forward, the panel dropping into a display like it's mate. A smaller weapon was plucked from its perch, and presented gracefully to an eager Olivia Arc. "For your off hand," he stated simply, Renard easily recognizing it as a katar.

The blade was fifteen inches of bright steel, with two thick reinforcement ribs, tapering evenly from four inches at its base to a needle point. The base of the blade also featured a small dust revolver cylinder embedded in the center, a miniature version of the central axis of Myrtenaster providing at least a token ability to utilize raw dust. An inch-thick block of steel added another two inches of length to the base, with two rails extending back from the edges of the base another twelve inches in line with the blade. A sturdy crossbar running between the two rails, four inches back from the blade served as a grip. A basket hilt covered the back of the hand and wrist from the base of the blade to nearly the back of the weapon, intricate patterns of diamond shaped perforations serving as decoration and weight reduction both, along with borders and flourishes of inlaid gold scrollwork. A trio of ring triggers were within the reach of the user's grip at all times, operated by the index, middle and ring fingers.

"I can adjust length of pull on each trigger if need be." Casian added as Olivia tentatively grasped the hilt.

"Yeah, maybe a little. I can reach, but it's a little hard." She said, turning the weapon in her grasp to show him.

"Looks like a quarter inch should do the trick. Now, the index trigger activates the dust in the active cylinder, the one along the outer side of the blade, allowing it to take effect over the blade surface." Casian explained. "The cylinder release is that button there." he added, pointing to a spot inside the weapon's frame. Olivia pressed it and the cylinder swung out easily, before she snapped it back into place with a flick of the wrist.

"That felt _really_ natural," she remarked with a smile.

"The ring finger trigger rotates the cylinder, allowing you to advance to the next chamber if you're empty, or have different dusts loaded," Casian continued, the girl before him testing the functionality with a few trigger pulls, the rotation easy and crisply indexing into each slot. "And the trigger on your middle finger...is a surprise," he finished cryptically, arching an eyebrow at Olivia while his lips curled into a soft smile. Olivia blinked once, before her smile mirrored Casian's, and activated the last function on the weapon. The blade sprung open forcefully, separated into three sharp prongs. The center that remained was two inches in width, with the remaining two pieces angled off twenty degrees from the center. A reverse movement of the trigger snapped the blades shut again, the fit so perfect that the seams disappeared unless you knew _exactly_ where to look.

"_Wicked_," Olivia breathed reverently, her smile broadening into a full, mischievous grin.

"There isn't enough force there to do real damage, but that's not the point. It's a nice trick to pull out on an opponent with a blade. Catch and twist and you've got a real chance to disarm someone," he explained. "A Huntress doesn't only fight enemies that are black and white."

"Ain't _that_ the truth," Jaune groused under his breath, well-acquainted with _that_ unfortunate fact.

"Now for his brother," Casian began, retrieving another katar from the rack. This one was of a similar motif; basket hilt, decorations and all, but held two distinct differences. Firstly, the blade tapered very slightly until the final four inches, where the point swept back at a near ninety degree angle, leaving a chisel-type tip for piercing armor. Secondly, it lacked the dust chamber of its mate, instead incorporating a military style pistol into the grip frame, the slide and barrel just outside the side frame of the weapon, muzzle even with the base of the blade. A single ring trigger in the middle finger position supplemented the trigger for the pistol, and Olivia didn't hesitate to discover what this one did. _Nearly poke an eye out_ was apparently the answer, the blade telescoping from fifteen to thirty inches in length with the same force as displayed moments before with the weapon's counterpart, the blade composed of three nested segments.

"The pistol is an Atlesian CP11R pattern, standard ten millimeter caliber. Four position selector; safe, single, three round burst and fully automatic. Flared magazine well for rapid reloads, an aggressive compensator for recoil reduction, and if you'll press that button _there_," Casian indicated, Olivia complying and releasing a metal bracket from the left side of the weapon. It hinged at the end of the sidebars, pivoting back to click into place and form a shoulder stock. "Stabilizing brace for sustained fire. You can even use it as a submachine gun if needed. There are plenty of extended magazines available for such a purpose."

"I like to utilize proven firearms in any hybrid weapon I build, and the CP11R has been the gold standard for the last fifty years. Ammunition, magazines and parts are available anywhere in Remnant. Unmatched reliability, with proper care, of course," he added. There were people out there who thought 'reliable' equated to 'never needs cleaning'.

"Yeah, I think those are what my teammate uses. Never seen him have a jam. _Ever_," Jaune reassured Olivia and their father both. He fished out his scroll and opened his picture folder, zooming in on a picture of Stormflower before turning the device towards Casian. "Same thing, right?" he asked hopefully.

"_Frati..._" Casian whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the scroll. "Where did you get this picture?" he asked Jaune, voice full of reverent wonder.

"You know this weapon?" Jaune replied, the tonal shift putting him on edge.

"My dear boy," Casian answered, his face a mask of gentle pride. "I _made_ them." his soot-stained fingers pinched at the picture, zooming out to find the publicity photo Team JNPR had taken for the Vytal Festival. The smith's breath caught as he saw the four hunters, his fingers hovering over the screen as if the image were a soap bubble, unable to withstand the slightest touch. "Magnhild as well," Casian whispered. "When was this taken?"

"Last month," Jaune replied, deeply confused. "How...?"

"We found Nora and Ren lost in the woods, alone. Lucky we did, or we might have wandered into Kuroyuri blind. It was...a bloodbath," he faltered, taking a deep, shuddering breath to collect his emotions. "We took them in, with the promise of finding their families. One of our oldest traditions. It's the reason we Tiganii travel as we do. _One _of them, at least," He added with a smirk. "The _peregrinare_. They were with my family for five years, _part_ of my family," he corrected. "Not that it was easy. Nora hit me in the _pulă_ with a hammer when I tried to get close to Ren the first time," Casian offered with a nostalgic smirk.

"That sounds like her," Jaune confirmed, well used to Nora Valkyrie's casual usage of violence, _especially_ when it came to Lie Ren.

"We covered all of Anima twice over in those five years. Not a single village had a lead on their families. I even risked going into Mistral itself and came up empty," he added with a hint of frustration. "As much as we didn't want them to leave, they wanted to be Huntsmen, and I was unable to train them to their full potential myself. I called in a favor and got them both into Harbor Academy on Anima's western coast. We stayed for a few months before the _chemare_ took us away. I haven't seen them since," Casian confessed sadly. "A few letters managed to work their way through the Tiganii clans. It's a slow system, but ultimately more reliable than scroll signal out in the wilds," he added, proud of his heritage to be sure.

Jaune listened with wonder, gaining insight into his teammates that neither of them had ever been able to share with him. He looked aside for a moment, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he saw his father watching Olivia slowly moving through her training forms with the pair of katars, a broad grin on her face.

"How are they?" Casian asked, breaking the Jaune's reverie.

Jaune pondered for a moment, wondering exactly how to answer the man properly without a prior frame of reference. "Good. _Happy_," he said simply, knowing the concerns an adopted family would have. "Ren is the brother I never had, and Nora is, well, _Nora_. Never a dull moment," he added with a smirk.

"Really? She was always so shy," Casian replied.

"Are you sure we're talking about the same person?" Jaune asked, cocking an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes, she was…" he began before a crackling snap could be heard behind the group, and the four of them turned to see a woman kneeling on the forest floor, arcs of electricity dancing over her body before fitfully flickering out after a second. "Elena?" Casian asked, voice already on edge.

"Papa!" she sobbed, standing to show that she was cradling a boy in her arms, no older than eight, and obviously bleeding badly. She stumbled forward towards her father, and the Arcs could easily discern the familial resemblance between all three. Of greater concern was the sodden, bloody mess that was the boy's right thigh, his trousers shredded and dripping. Various other scratches were visible on his arms, and a nasty knot on his forehead likely the cause of his lack of consciousness.

"What happened?!" Casian demanded, beckoning them under the canopy before Elena drove an icy dagger into the hearts of all present with a single word.

"Grimm."

"_Fecior de curva._" He muttered as his daughter set her brother down on an empty workbench, the boy groaning softly in pain. Renard immediately retrieved his weapon, Shadowbane's handle coming to rest on his right shoulder for the moment.

"I can try and get a tourniquet on that, but I don't know if it'll work. That wound is really high up the leg," Renard added to clarify, already casting his gaze about for suitable material.

Jaune instead opted for a more direct approach, pulling his gloves off and gently placing his hands on the boy's leg. A soft, white glow began to emit from his hands, but did not extend beyond them, a grimace of frustration curling the boy's lips after a long moment.

"Is his aura unlocked?"

"No."

"Damn. Thought that would be a problem," Jaune said darkly. "My semblance amplifies aura. I can heal him, but…" he added, trailing off.

"The shock could kill him, Jaune," Renard advised all present.

"Papa, I'm so sorry," Elena sobbed, tears streaking her face.

"I can heal him, Casian. I've dealt with worse," Jaune interjected, voice full of steely resolve. Casian's deep brown eyes met his own, seeing their own intensity reflected back in deep sapphire, and he nodded once.

"Elena? Nicolai needs you to be strong. You can do this," he said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Where are the Grimm?" He asked, already looking towards the forest.

"That way," she pointed. "Not sure how far," she added, moving towards her brother.

"Nothing in the immediate vicinity, but I can't push my semblance beyond two hundred yards without burning through a _lot_ of aura," Renard piped up. "Thankfully, I have a full field of vision. Makes it hard to be ambushed at least," he added with a grim smirk before his eyes flew wide, a gasp escaping his throat. Looking down, he could see Jaune's hand on his forearm, white aura mingling with dark blue. "_Holy shit_," he said, voice an awestruck whisper.

"Better?" Jaune asked with just the barest hint of sarcasm, Elena beginning to work on her brother, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Renard replied simply, before he closed his eyes in concentration. "Damn. I _hate_ Cacklers," he muttered. "Twenty-seven, with three beowolves. One of them is an alpha. Two miles, closing at a fast lope. Five minutes or less before they're on us," he pronounced, opening his eyes again.

"Casian!" Jaune barked, tossing _Trandafir_ to him. Casian caught it easily, sliding the scabbard home on his left hip.

"I'm done," Elena whispered, fighting to stay upright. Jaune returned to Nicolai's side, his aura flaring brightly as he desperately tried to save the young boy's life.

"Dad, Casian. Meet them close enough that you can fall back if you need to. If your wife can fight, I'll need her here. Liv, stay behind me, watch my back. If you have ammo on hand, she'll need it, Casian," he added, the smith pulling several magazines from the weapon cabinet in response. "Dad?" he asked, nodding his head towards Crocea Mors. "Little busy here." He clarified, his father retrieving the heirloom and sliding it into the frog on his son's belt.

"You act like they're going to get past me," Renard said with a friendly smirk.

"Magda!" Casian shouted. "Lock down the wagons!"

Moments later, armored skirts dropped beneath all three wagons, sealing the underside and giving the defenders a somewhat secure position, though one without an escape route. Casian drew his blade, his off hand fishing in his pocket to retrieve several small objects. These were quickly placed back into the spine of Trandafir, a soft glow emitting from various dust crystals for a moment as they slotted home.

"Axe/shotgun, I usually stay low and grounded," Renard informed his impromptu partner. "Semblance lets me sense Grimm, so nothing you need to worry about," he added.

"Single blade, some dust effects. I try to stay mobile, especially against large groups. I've already done what I can with my semblance. I hope it is enough," he replied, offering Jaune a long gaze before turning to leave. "Keep him safe."

"Funny. I was about to tell you the same thing," Jaune snarked back.

"Since when were _comedy_ classes offered at Beacon?" Renard sniped back with a wry smirk as he jogged off after Casian. "Anything about the surrounding woods I need to know about?" he asked, before they fell out of earshot.

Jaune looked to his other companion, finally taking in the girl's appearance. Elena was his contemporary within a year or two, and complected much like her father, her ebony hair much more curly. Curiously, she wore a small, pink feather dangling from the left center of her bangs, which nearly reached her eyebrows. Irises the color of melted milk chocolate regarded him skeptically, unsure of his promises but unwilling to give up hope for her brother. Her nose gently sloped, with a slight curve up at the point, her dark cheeks even rosier with exertion. Her pants and boots were likewise a reflection of her father, with a cream-colored (now bloodstained) shirt instead, the neckline plunging just enough to be enticing without being revealing. A dark red corset served to add color to the outfit as well as tastefully lifting the girl's modest bust, white ribbons criss-crossing the front of the garment. A pair of ghurka knives were at on her belt, blades over a foot long, with an integrated revolver built into each.

"Cover me?" Jaune asked hopefully. Elena looked past his eyes, gasping softly as her brother's wounds were slowly beginning to close.

"They will not touch you as I draw breath," she pronounced with grim determination, taking a few wobbly steps towards the forest to gain better visibility.

"Liv, grab those mags on the table and load one, put the rest in your vest pocket where you can reach," Jaune ordered, getting his sister moving. Olivia took a few tries, but finally managed to get the magazine oriented properly, slamming it home with the heel of her hand. "Grab the serrations on the slide, pull it back as far as you can and then let it go. Now rotate the switch by your right thumb so that the tab is all the way back towards you. That's full auto," Jaune clarified to her, ridiculously happy that he'd had the foresight to have his team familiarize each other with their weapons, should worst come to worst. Granted, his portion of instruction lasted the few seconds it took to convey 'the pointy end goes into the Grimm', but at the very least, he could fire every gun in JNPR's arsenal if he had to.

Not that he could actually _hit_ anything when he did, but he wasn't about to complain right now.

"Hold back unless you absolutely _have_ to engage, all right?" he added, hoping to reassure the young blond.

"Y-yeah. You got it," Olivia replied, failing to project beyond what little confidence she had at the moment.

The sound of not-so-distant gunfire starting up certainly didn't help matters.


	6. Trial By Fire

**Chapter 6**

**Trial By Fire**

Jaune risked a glance down at the boy he was feverishly attempting to heal, seeing that the worst of his wounds were nearly closed, though still seeping what little blood he had left. He was groaning softly in pain, not quite conscious, but provably alive. But for the desperate circumstances, punctuated by the low _thud_ of shells fired from Shadowbane in the nearby forest, Jaune could almost revel in the feeling of holding a life in his hands. As long as they could hear that, Olivia and Jaune knew their father was alive.

"You ever get used to waiting like this?" she asked him quietly, her frame tense as her eyes flicked back and forth through the treeline.

"Nope," Jaune replied easily, his pronunciation reminiscent of a pair of sisters who were unrelated by blood, yet still his family nonetheless.

A new sound could be heard now; short, gibbering yips heralding something decidedly not human making its way through the trees. Elena Râuri tensed, her own brown eyes already looking for targets for the blade-bearing pistols in her hands. She did not wait long.

Slipping from the forest, five of the laughing Grimm emerged, spread in a wide front. Eyes the color of hot coals regarding the prey before them, betraying a near indifference to the object of their eternal hunger. Vaguely canine and quadruped in form, yet unevenly so; massive, bulked shoulders rose nearly four feet at the withers, without taking into account the spikes of bone that added another foot of height, a solitary row running down the sloped spine of the Cacklers. The rear legs were a measure shorter, a short, brushy tail swaying lazily with each step as they spread out across a wide front. Solid bone armor provided excellent protection across the throat and wide chests of the beasts, a nearly uniform continuation of the white plates covered the shoulders, leaving the Cackler well-defended against a frontal attack. The flanks of the beasts were peppered with small bone plates as well, a darkly inverted mockery of some spotted dog. Long necks hung low, supporting skulls straight out of a nightmare. Black, rounded ears were the lone piece of darkness present, the entirety of the flesh that would be expected absent, instead replaced with bleached bone not unlike the lone Alpha Beowolf that was stalking out of the woods behind them. The muzzles were squat and broad, a pair of vicious, conical fangs at the upper corners, wickedly sharp and curving nearly four inches downward, the mandible sporting a single, upward-curving fang to match, the three of them meshing like Atlesian clockwork.

Jaune could only watch as they surrounded Elena, their Beowolf companion's tongue lolling slightly as the pack animals probed her defenses. Several dust rounds were shrugged off by the well armored beasts, who at all times kept their heads towards their target. A quick dash in by the Cackler behind her was met with a twisting somersault from Elena, both of her blades scissoring downwards at the apex of her low jump, slamming into both sides of the Grimm's skull to little effect. Had the blow been better placed, had she been less winded from the day's events, Elena would likely have decapitated the abomination, but instead it turned on her, shaking its skeletal head, round ears flopping like the hyena it resembled. Its companions, heads erect to watch the strike, slowly lowered them again, resuming their torturously slow stalk of the girl who Juane realized was now a good fifteen feet closer to where he stood.

Risking another quick glance at his charge, the blond knight could only pray that he'd done enough to stave off death for a few minutes longer, and Crocea Mors sung from its scabbard, the white heater shield assuming its rightful place on his forearm with practiced ease. "Keep _him_ safe," he instructed Olivia before bolting towards the fight.

The Cacklers again attacked, with the two on Elena's flanks launching simultaneously. A split second decision later, the girl had again jumped over one of them, this time forgoing the melee strike in favor of dumping the remaining half dozen rounds in her revolvers into the flank and rump of the beast, managing to get enough rounds through the gaps in bone plating to inflict lethal damage. The Cackler inelegantly plowed skull-first into the loam, its companion in the attack having to sidestep the smoking Grimm even as it continued to accelerate towards Elena, leaping at her with jaws agape.

The Grimm managed to grab her left forearm, thankfully wedging the girl's wrist behind the wicked fangs, her deep pink aura straining as the jagged molars bore down upon her. The Cackler's weight came into play now, threatening to tear her down as the bestial Grimm began to thrash about, it's rear paws barely making contact with the ground. Her options dwindling quickly, Elena repeatedly slammed the point of her free weapon into the ribcage of the Cackler, just to the side of the sternum. The third strike finally bore fruit as it went slack and became two hundred pounds of slowly dissolving dead weight attached to her arm. This would have been cause for celebration but for the other three Cacklers, which had taken the opportunity to leap in also, one each latching on to her left thigh, right calf and right bicep, tugging insistently in opposite directions.

Elena nearly toppled completely, barely managing to maintain enough equilibrium to fall to her right knee instead. Desperately managing to fight free of the dead Cackler weighing her down, she tried to land a blow with her weakened left arm, the point of her blade doing nothing more than chip at the skull of the Grimm attached to her arm. Fearing the worst, Elena looked up just in time for the alpha Beowolf to grab her free arm in its massive paw, malevolent crimson eyes boring into her very soul as it examined its prey closely, its putrid breath redolent in her nose. Her eyes were wide at her impending doom, the massive Grimm before her savoring the scent of her fear like fine perfume before she heard a wet _smack_, which transitioned into a low-pitched, metallic ringing sound.

Daring to glance aside, she could see Crocea Mors, held high above Jaune's left side, having just risen to cleave the left haunch entirely free of the Cackler on her left. The briefest moment later, Jaune pivoted his wrist and swung down to his right, finding a small gap in the dorsal spines of Elena's other leg weight and dropping the blade of his heirloom sword halfway through the Grimm's neck, severing its spine. The sole remaining Cackler released its hold, realigning itself with the newest threat on the battlefield, even as its larger companion removed said threat with a quick spin, throwing one prey item into the other and launching them both back into the forge area. Thankfully they were saved from blasting completely _through_ the wagons. _Un_thankfully, it was only by virtue of their impact with the substantial weight of the freestanding anvil, which teetered for a moment before falling down away from them.

Jaune's vision swam, obscured momentarily by a mane of sweat-weighted black hair before Elena slowly tumbled off of him. He could hear the tell-tale patter of small paws digging through the dirt at a full charge even if he couldn't actually _see_ it yet. A blob of brown and white occupied his vision a moment later before it was knocked much closer to him, with a hulking black and white body behind that. Blinking twice, his vision cleared, and what he now saw drove him into a near panic.

Olivia Arc was engaged in a brutal test of strength against the Cackler, which outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds. The beast had its jaw jammed full of the young huntress' right hand, the steel basket guard being the only thing that kept those massive fangs from turning her hand into mulch. With her off hand, Olivia tried to breach the frontal bone armor of the Cackler, but lacked the strength and Aura control to do so, her frustration showing in the wordless grunts and shouts she was giving off as her feet slid slowly backward towards her brother.

"Gun!" Jaune shouted, reminding her of the options at her disposal.

Olivia's eyes went wide as she heard it, and with a barked laugh, yanked the trigger back. The Atlesian pistol performed precisely as advertised, a loud burst of gunfire chattering away as the weapon ran through the entire extended magazine in under two seconds. The first seven rounds tore chunks out of the interior of the Cackler's throat, and the remaining fifteen chewed into and through the spine of the beast, a geyser of black ichor and bone fragments erupting from the back of its neck six inches behind the skull. Olivia yanked her weapon from her opponent's rapidly disintegrating jaws, resuming a shaky combat stance.

Jaune staggered to his feet, offering a brief glance to the elder Huntress present and seeing her breathing, at the very least. "Reload. Mag release is under your thumb," Jaune barked, trying to keep his sister as combat ready as possible as the Beowolf began loping towards them. He strode forward, getting his shield between the four of them and the lone threat remaining, before he realized with a start that his sword wasn't in his hand any longer. "Shit," he summed up succinctly as Olivia again fumbled with the unfamiliar act of reloading the pistol under stress. "Stay behind me. Take the shot if you have it," he added, trotting forward to meet the alpha before it could get close to the wagons and the three Tiganii he was charged with defending.

Jaune had barely cleared the canopy above the wagons when he caught motion in his peripheral vision. Oddly enough, the Beowolf stopped short at the same time as he did, the both of them looking to the small group of _actual_ wolves gathered near the door where Magda Râuri had last been seen.

"Oh, you gotta be _shittin'_ me," Jaune groaned, his sword hand gathering Olivia behind him as the assembled wolves began to growl, hackles raised and teeth bared for a moment before they moved as one. Jaune could only stare in wonder as the wolf pack laid into the Beowolf with bestial fury. They seemed offended at the mere _existence_ of the dark mockery of their lupine form, two of them immediately latching onto the Grimm's left arm while the rest attempted to hamstring the beast. Were it some large game animal, the assault would have dropped it where it stood, but the Alpha had _options_, and these were exercised quickly. A bony muzzle clamped down hard on one of the wolves dangling from its inky black arm, yanking it free and shaking the lupine viciously before flinging it into the Arc siblings, the hundred fifty pound animal knocking them both down easily. To Jaune's surprise, the wolf shook itself off briefly and regained its footing, moving faster than the animal had any right to as it jumped into the fray again.

The impact of wolf on Grimm spun the beast around nearly a full circle as a half ton of grey-furred anger tugged limbs in awkward directions, the Alpha Beowolf staggering as it tried to free itself. Olivia tried in vain to find a clear shot, but the brawl was far too chaotic to offer it to her. Instead, she kept station behind her brother as Jaune kept himself between the wagons and the Grimm, his mind trying to formulate a plan that didn't end up with the four of them getting eaten.

Adding to the chaos already present, Jaune heard the deep, bass rhythm of hoofbeats, the horses apparently scattering..._towards them_? He could only stand slack jawed as a pair of the draft horses rounded the end of the wagons, the first wheeling in front of the Beowolf before lashing out with its hind hooves. The strike caught the abomination square on the jaw, snapping the mandible in half and flipping the Grimm on its back. With the wolves now pinning it down, and its spines firmly lodged into the forest floor, both horses got to work, repeatedly rearing up and raining down blows with steel-shod hooves the size of dinner plates. In the span of twenty seconds, _thuds _transitioned to _cracks_, which then gave way to a sickening squelching sound when the Beowolf's head was reduced to pulp. The assault only stopped when the beast was clearly disintegrating, the mixed group of animals backing away from the smoking corpse.

"Nobody's gonna believe me," Jaune muttered softly, immediately regretting it as the wolf pack turned as one, looking directly at him. "Niiiice doggies," he said with a nervous grin, backing away slowly as they began to growl with the sound of distant thunder, hackles raised menacingly.

"_Mercur_!" came a loud shout, one of the wolves perking its ears as it turned, calling Jaune's attention to the treeline as Casian Râuri and Renard Arc emerged from the forest. Their hair and clothing were mussed, but not overly so, as if the balance of the Grimm were nothing but a minor inconvenience, rather than the near death experience that had been Jaune's fight. The wolves wheeled as one, trotting over to the Râuri patriarch with their tails wagging eagerly. The two Huntsmen were conversing idly, Renard laughing at something the other had said before he recoiled slightly at the animals casually advancing upon them. Casian simply knelt, allowing the pack alpha to approach, a single half-drooped ear pinned back with its mate as the vicious animal licked at the Tigan's chin almost affectionately.

"I knew something was going on with them," Renard stated flatly as he watched the scene unfold.

"My family doesn't only walk on two legs," Casian replied, ruffling the wolf's head fur before resuming his jog back to the wagons, the wolves following as if on the hunt. He quickly came to Jaune, who simply nodded towards the forge in response to the man's tense, unspoken question. Casian quickly moved past him, cradling his son's head in his arms. The boy's eyes opened, and he grunted in pain, his ordeal not yet over. His wounds were largely closed, though the blood still present painted a gory picture. "Nicolai?" Casian asked, almost in disbelief at what his eyes were telling him.

"Papa?" he replied, still in shock as Casian embraced him fiercely.

"_Credeam că te-am pierdut_!" he said, voice muffled by the top of his son's head, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. A soft whine was heard as the droop-eared wolf laid his head in the boy's lap before a bloody hand gave the animal a gentle head pat. Jaune could only smile at the reunion, made better when Elena managed to groggily regain her feet and join in hugging the boy, the trio surrounded by their four-legged companions.

"You drop something?" Renard asked from behind him, his son turning to find the huntsman with Shadowbane holstered on his back, and Crocea Mors' hilt in his left hand.

"Was wondering where that had gotten to," Jaune replied sheepishly, collapsing his shield and replacing it on his belt before taking the proffered weapon from his father and slipping it back into its scabbard. "I got knocked all the way across the clearing," he muttered, clearly abashed.

"It happens," Renard replied, Jaune's eyebrows arching in surprise at the man's magnanimity before he held up Elena's weapons as well. "Are you two all right?" he asked.

"Bumps and bruises maybe, dad. Olivia saved my bacon," Jaune freely admitted, subconsciously putting his team leadership skills to use.

"Oh, really?" Ren asked in surprise.

"Yup!" Jaune affirmed, the girl in question shaking off her adrenaline crash for a moment before separating from her brother.

"How are you feeling, Liv?" He asked, voicing concern and warmth.

"I… that was intense. _Way_ different than class," she conceded, trembling slightly.

"Hold on, Dad," Jaune added, clasping his father's hand and letting what remained of his aura flow into the older man. "Perimeter check," he clarified.

Renard closed his eyes, concentrating and pushing himself further than he dared hope possible. A low whistle escaped his lips as his posture relaxed. "Clear out to at least five miles. I have to say, I'd love to see what you could do with a few of my old friends," he said warmly.

"I didn't get much chance to experiment before the end of the school year, but yeah, things can get pretty intense," he added, shuddering at the memory of Glynda Goodwitch effortlessly levitating a pair of Bullhead transports without the aircraft actually running.

"Did you two learn anything?" Renard asked of his children.

"Don't fight Cacklers alone," Jaune summed up easily. The beasts were consummate pack hunters, and their narrower bodies made them far more able than even Beowolves to drown a lone Huntsman in numbers. "If I hadn't been there, Elena would be dead. Or vice versa," he added, not giving weight to either option being the more likely one.

"Olivia?"

"Know your weapons. I was scared beyond belief trying to reload this thing under stress," she admitted without shame. "I'm sold, by the way," she added, holding up her right hand weapon for inspection. The basket hilt was barely scratched from the abuse it had suffered, and that was without her using aura to reinforce it. "Ugly sumbitch tried to eat her. _They had a bad time_," she continued with a little swagger in her voice.

Renard thoughtfully examined the katar, noting the dust residue pattern around the pistol's compensator. "How's the recoil?" He asked.

"Don't know. Cackler was holding on to it the whole time," she replied honestly.

"Might want to test that out before you make a decision, then," her father gently reminded her.

Before she could answer with a no doubt petulantly teenaged response, they were interrupted by a teary eyed Casian, approaching the group once again. Without a word, his right hand clasped Jaune's in an unusual manner, his fingers curling into Jaune's and leaving their thumbs exposed. Before he could remark about the odd choice of times to declare a thumb war, Casian produced a small dagger with his left hand. The Tigan quickly placed the tip of the blade between their thumbs, pressing forward forcefully with his own before he yanked the dagger away. Caught by surprise, and thus unable to utilize his nearly depleted aura properly, Jaune could only hiss as the razor-sharp blade cut into the flesh of both men, drawing a hiss of pain from the knight's throat as the older of the two pressed his bleeding digit against the younger's. Casian's dark eyes locked onto Jaune's own, the gravity of his words easily transcending the language barrier.

"_Sângele tău este sângele meu, vatră mea te va hrăni mereu și vei găsi pentru totdeauna adăpost cu familia mea_," he said, releasing the boy's hand to embrace him fully, placing an enthusiastic kiss on both of his cheeks and a third on his forehead. "_Infiat_," he pronounced finally, clapping the boy's back eagerly as he continued to hug him. "Thank you, Jaune. So very, _very_ much. You're staying for tea," he added, a statement of fact rather than a question.

"Umm, sure?" Jaune replied, rubbing his thumb once he had been released.

"Excellent!" Casian exclaimed with a beaming smile, pacing off to inform his wife of the good news.

"What just happened?" Jaune finally asked of his father. "I didn't get married or something, did I?"

"No," Elena declared flatly as she approached with her limping brother in tow. "I don't like blonds," she clarified, the Arcs somehow understanding that Casian repeatedly attempting to wed his daughter off was a thing. "Besides, you're effectively my brother now," she added, smirking softly before placing a pair of perfunctory kisses on his cheeks like her father had. Elena couldn't help but giggle lightly at the blush she'd induced.

"I believe these are yours, young lady?" Renard piped up, Jaune silently thanking his father for breaking up the awkwardness.

"Thank you," she said graciously, taking the pair of weapons from his grasp. A quick button press and flick of the wrist later, she'd swung open the revolver cylinders and dumped the empty casings on the ground. She holstered them both with the cylinders still open, pulling two speed loaders from a small pouch on her belt and inserting them with practiced ease. A simple click later and the now empty devices were dropped into her pocket, her fingertips pressing the newly loaded cylinders back into place. With that, the five of them headed back towards the wagons, Nicolai swept off his feet by his mother the moment she came outside, fussing over him as only a mother could. The Tiganii and their animals were left to their moment, Renard placing his hand on his children's shoulders as they stood slightly apart.

"That's why we do what we do," he pronounced simply, adding one final lesson to the morning for the both of his children.

* * *

A full morning and afternoon of tea, camaraderie, haggling, and a quick bout of weapon modification later, the three Arcs were on their way back to Shion. Olivia was practically skipping the whole way, even under the not inconsiderable weight of Fang and Claw sheathed on her thighs. A wide brown leather belt held a magazine carrier with for six reloads of her pistol as well as slots for vials of dust, which lay empty for the time being. Jaune was again wearing Trandafir on his belt, something which felt more natural now for some reason. Granted, Casian had basically _adopted_ him, his own family notwithstanding, but the ease with which he walked the forest path felt _wrong_ somehow. The _good_ kind of wrong, certainly, but out of place nonetheless.

"Dad?"

"Mercur and the others are escorting us into town. Just in the treeline on your left," Renard reassured him.

"Knew something felt off." Jaune admitted. "Damnedest semblance I've ever seen." He added. "I mean, I've seen Ruby's dog actually _kill G_rimm, just never occurred to me you could unlock the aura of other animals."

"There's no way those four horses could pull that kind of load otherwise," Renard countered.

"Or stomp an Alpha Beowolf into a pulp," Jaune added.

"Or that, yes," Renard nodded. "Still can't believe you got your first kill so young, Liv," he added with a grin in his voice and on his face.

"I thought you were killing Grimm in kindergarten, Dad?" she replied.

"I may have... _exaggerated _that part. A little bit," Renard admitted of his tall tales.

"I might have been… _joking_," she replied sarcastically, mirroring her father's diction.

"Smartass," he fired back, mussing her already unkempt hair.

"So when do we start training, Dad?" she asked, directly as always.

"I can train you in certain aspects of being a Huntress; Aura control, Grimm lore, fieldcraft and the like, but your weapons are a bit outside my style," he added. "You can probably find someone with a similar style when you get to combat school."

"I know someone who can help, Liv. Lemme see your scroll for a second," Jaune asked, getting the device from his sister and transferring a contact before handing it back.

"We don't have reception, dork-o," Olivia snarked.

"Well, when you _do_, give her a buzz. Yang Xiao Long. You'll like her. She's a boxer, uses shotgun gauntlets similar to your weapons," he added, hoping that putting his short-tempered sister in touch with his even _more_ short-tempered friend wasn't a huge mistake.

"Speaking of weapons, first thing we do when we get back is spend the rest of the day going over weapons maintenance," Renard interjected.

"But, _Daaaad_," Olivia replied petulantly.

"No buts. Mister Râuri gave us a frankly _ridiculous_ discount on those things. Not to mention what he's going to be doing with Crocea Mors. As obviously excellent as those katars are, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash to pay twenty thousand for the pair, and he gave them to us for _five_. Which means that if you neglect your weapons and they _break_, it'll cost an arm and a leg to fix them. And that's if they don't _literally_ cost you an arm and a leg when they break in the field," her father admonished.

Sufficiently cowed, the younger Arc chose to stomp off a short distance ahead, drawing her blades and slowly working through some of her more basic Savate forms as she walked down the forest path.

"Jaune…" Renard began, hesitating either out of pride or a simple inability to properly voice his thoughts.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"You did well today. You've got a sharp mind in between your ears, if nothing else. The rest will come in time," he stated with a little warmth in his voice.

"Thanks, Dad," Jaune replied simply, a small glimmer of hope flickering at the edge of his vision.

"So, how's Beacon?" Renard asked innocuously enough, as if he'd known and believed his son all along.

"It's...it's been good for me. I was such an idiot when I got there, didn't have the slightest clue as to what I was doing, but I learned. Had to scratch and claw for it, and got my butt whipped into shape by a lot of my friends, but I wouldn't do anything different. Well, _okay_, maybe a _couple_ things," he demurred, recalling his disastrous courtship of Weiss Schnee.

"I can only hope you keep your friends the whole way through school. My path through Beacon was one heartache after another, son," Renard concluded with a weary sigh.

"I know," Jaune affirmed, voice soft and sympathetic. The two men walked on in silence for several moments before Renard spoke again.

"So what was _your _first kill?" He asked, trying to make conversation if nothing else.

"Solo? Ursa Major during a field trip to Forever Fall," he answered easily, his thoughts lingering for a brief moment on Cardin of all people. Seeing him helplessly pinned under the rubble at Beacon was certainly an image he never thought would come to pass.

"Nice," His father replied in admiration. "So how far did your team get with Fred?"

"Who?" Jaune asked, bewildered at the topic shift.

"You know, the Fred Challenge. Or are they not allowing the graduating seniors to mess with the freshmen anymore?"

"What?" Jaune sputtered, now even more confused.

"Well, when I went through Beacon, the graduating class would challenge the first years. Fred is the biggest, nastiest Grimm in the Emerald Forest. All the first years would be shown the entrance to a large cave. We even painted it up with all sorts of warning glyphs on the walls to make it look even scarier. That, and keep the more idiotic initiates away. So anyway, you'd have to walk into the cave, and whichever team got the furthest in there without having a team member turn back would be the winner of the Fred Challenge that year. Sounds kind of stupid when you say it out loud, but it's a _tradition_, damn it. Or _was_, apparently," Renard grumbled softly.

"You named an elder Deathstalker the size of a small house '_Fred'_?" Jaune blurted in disbelief.

"Well, he came with the name..._wait, _I thought you didn't know about the Fred Challenge." Renard redirected. "They didn't rename him, did they? Damn political correctness," he muttered angrily.

"Umm, if they did, I never heard about it," Jaune replied, scratching at the back of his neck nervously. "Besides. We...kind of..._killed him_?" he added sheepishly.

"You..._what_?" Renard asked.

"My team. Accidentally riled him up during initiation and he eventually chased us back to the Beacon cliffs. Ren and Pyrrha managed to cut off the stinger, and Nora smashed it through his head before he went over the cliff," his son concluded, a nervous grimace on his face at telling what would, under normal circumstances, be a ridiculous tale.

"Either you've gotten a _lot_ better at lying to my face..._or_...your team is ridiculously good."

"My team, to quote Nora, is '_fuckin' awesome!'_" Jaune said with a small measure of pride, despite how little awesomeness he contributed personally.

Renard chuckled softly through a smile. "Can't wait to meet her."

The two Arc men fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way back to Shion, receiving one last flop-eared glance from Mercur at the edge of the woods before the four legged Tiganii retreated.

Jaune and Renard found the rest of their family at the inn easily enough, Olivia excitedly describing their exploits of the afternoon to anyone who would listen. This apparently included Rose Arc, who shot a dark glower at her husband from across the lobby.

"For future reference, don't go into detail about missions with your mother," he whispered to his son.

"Yikes," Jaune whispered back through a nervous grin.

"Renard, my _darling_, it is so _good_ to have you all back in _one piece_," his mother said with a tight smile on her face, clearly holding back anger at her little girl being thrown into danger with such reckless irresponsibility.

"Honey, I…" Ren stammered, clearly terrified.

"I mean, Terra here has been waiting patiently all morning to talk to you, isn't that right, dear?" she asked the lone in-law in the room.

"Umm, oh, right!" Terra blurted, her own fear of her mother-in-law something new, the woman's restrained wrath indeed terrible to behold. Standing with a little difficulty, she ambled he pregnant self over to stand in front of Renard, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Mister Arc, Saphron and I love each other very much, and I would like to ask for your blessing to marry your daughter," she said with barely a waver in her voice.

"Wait, _what_?"

"We do feel bad about not having you all at the wedding, so we're having a do over," Saphron piped up. "Plus Shion is having their Shèngxià Festival in two days, and Terra and I will be getting wed as part of the celebration. They usually do a mock wedding with a young couple in costume, but since there's someone _actually_ needing to get hitched, the village is more than happy to accommodate," she said with bubbly enthusiasm.

"I...Well, if my lovely and wonderful wife thinks this is a good idea, who am I to argue?" The elder huntsman concluded sagely.

"Good answer." Rose shot back, her eyes narrowed.


	7. Moments of Transition pt 1

**Chapter 7**

**Moments of Transition**

**(part 1)**

**June 9th**

Jaune Arc slammed his newly-reforged heirloom blade home into its scabbard, a warm smile gracing his features as he looked back to Casian Râuri. "It's perfect," he pronounced simply, replacing the white and gold sheath in his baldric and twisting at the waist. This was to once again confirm the consummate fit and craftsmanship of his new armor. It was indeed heavier, but somehow fit and felt better on Jaune's lean frame.

"I do my best, _înfiat_. I send you out into the world better than you arrived. It _is _my calling," he replied, clapping him on the right shoulder much like his _actual_ father would.

"Still can't believe you did this all in under three weeks," he muttered, his eyes roving over his gear. Gone were the fingerless leather gloves and elbow pads he'd worn at initiation, replaced instead by proper gauntlets, vambraces and couters on both arms, and a large, curved pauldron on his left shoulder providing extra protection for his shield arm. The pair of metal plates protecting his torso were supplanted by a full cuirass of segmented, overlapping plate and mail, reaching completely over his shoulders and down to the midpoint between his pelvis and ribcage. The whole ensemble was now enameled with a creamy white, edges and highlights in a rich gold projecting a much more knightly facade than he had previously been able to.

"So what lies ahead, Jaune?" Casian asked, busying himself with the last few connections between the horses and his wagons.

"Training. As much as I can manage before school starts in the fall," he replied earnestly.

"Another hand on the road wouldn't exactly be unwelcome. Elena certainly wouldn't mind," he hinted unsubtly, if inaccurately. "Experience can be a wonderful teacher as well."

"Oh, I know that. But I _do_ have someone in mind already," Jaune countered.

"Then I can only offer you two things to send you on your way. The first is advice. The Tiganii live on the margins, standing in the shadow of civilization. After a life of that, you come away with a certain..._perspective_," he began, pausing for effect. "There are things that are too big for you, battles you don't need to be in. Don't let your heart drag you into a fight that's not yours. That isn't _right_ for you."

Deep blue eyes regarded Casian for several sober moments, letting the admonition sink in. "And the second?" Jaune asked with genuine interest.

Without another word, Casian retrieved a wooden box the size of a large textbook from the driver's seat of the lead wagon. This he handed to Jaune, who raised an eyebrow before he opened it, finding an oddly matched group of items within.

"Only one of those is yours, by the way. It should be obvious which, and what to do with the others." Casian added helpfully.

Taking inventory for several moments, Jaune deduced correctly, pulling a braided leather cord, dyed to match the new leather wrapping his sword hilt, nearly a foot long from the box and closing the lid. He regarded it carefully, a small loop ending up over his thumb as he let it dangle. A tassel likewise made of the same leather was at the tip, an oblong gold ring allowing the loop to be adjusted for size. This was wide, and intricately engraved with a simple rose vine, clearly taking many hours of labor to complete. Four more spherical beads of gold were spaced evenly along the length of the cord, engraving carrying the rose motif further along.

"You didn't have to, Casian. Your generosity…" Jaune began.

"Was nothing of the sort. Tiganii honor their debts, Jaune. Any of us will recognize that cord and treat you as _triburi_. _Family_," he said warmly, clasping Jaune's right forearm just below the elbow, Juane's hand reflecting the gesture as the two pulled closer to embrace in a familial hug.

"So, I…" he continued, holding the cord up to examine it even more closely.

"Pommel," Casian said simply, chuckling at the boy's confusion, before tilting the hilt of Trandafir forward a hair to show off his own, in red and white.

"Oh," he said sheepishly, securing the loop to a slight narrowing of his sword's hilt adjacent the pommel of the weapon, cinching it down easily, almost as if the two were made for each other. "Like a glove," he added with some swagger in his voice.

"It suits you, Jaune," Casian said with a wide grin. "In spite of the hair," he added with a chuckle.

"Thanks," he replied easily, tucking the wooden box into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulders.

"Heading back to town?"

"Yeah, catching an airship in the morning."

"Be careful. Mercur sensed something in the woods. He's not sure what."

"Well, hopefully I don't have to test your handiwork too soon then," Jaune replied, resting the heel of his left hand on his sword.

Casian nodded sagely, stepping forward to embrace Jaune one last time, familial kisses on each cheek exchanged by both men. After a moment, they separated slightly, grasping each other's forearms. "_Drumul să fie bun cu tine, fiule_," he said warmly. "Fate brought us together, Jaune. To what end, I cannot say."

"Thank you, Casian," Jaune responded. "I hope we meet again someday."

"_La Paștele Cailor._" Casian replied with a sad smile, knowing it was a fool's hope as he watched another adopted son walk out of his life.

* * *

**June 10th**

_Now __**this **__is the life._

Yang Xiao Long reclined on a low chair, a gentle sea breeze ruffling her luxurious golden mane as she relaxed on the beach of Port Arcadia, the slowly moving shadow of the beach umbrella having exposed her body to the early June sun from the waist down. Her thoughts were vague and undefined, simply enjoying a bit of rest after a very eventful year of study at Beacon Academy. Her attire left even less to the imagination than was her normal; a bikini in as low a cut as her father would let her get away with, the fabric a swirling mix of orange, yellow and red. It wasn't the suit she _really_ wanted to wear, but Taiyang had accompanied his daughters into town for the day, and she wasn't about to risk a lecture.

The envious, desirous, or sometimes _both_, stares from the other beachgoers and passers-by was just an added bonus.

And so she sighed gently, looking through her sunglasses out into the gently crashing surf, letting the susurration begin to lull her into a dreamy trance. Or she would have, but for the sound of her sister's scroll next to her, Ruby Rose well and truly engrossed with some game or another. She smiled softly at her simple soul, again silently beseeching whatever powers that might be to never let the girl grow up. Ruby was dressed far more conservatively than her sister, not that that was saying much, her nevertheless lithe form flattered well by the brilliant red tank suit she wore, small black roses scattered over her left flank.

Ruby suddenly growled angrily, barely stopping herself from flinging her scroll across the beach. "_Stupid_ zombie deathstalkers and their _stupid_ death triggers," she muttered bitterly.

"I'm tellin' ya, sis, that game is a pay to win lien sink," Yang offered sagely.

"Yeah, whatever. Log on and send me some extra lives, wouldja?" she grumped.

"Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec," she replied, fumbling about for her own scroll and opening it. A few taps got the desired results and she closed the app again. "There ya go, Rubes," she added, checking her notifications while she had the device out. The sounds of automated turrets annihilating zombie Grimm resumed as she fired off a few text messages to friends from her Signal days.

Next was FriendLink, several notifications there demanding her attention as well. Coco Adel's latest fashion choices made up a sizeable photo album, and Yang swiped through them idly, the brunette's tastes only occasionally intersecting with her own. Another post in her feed was from Nora Valkyrie, titled 'Beach Season!', a candid picture of a rather shocked Lie Ren in nothing but a scandalously short pair of green swim trunks. Water glistened over his tanned skin, the slight twist in his torso showing off every bit of definition his lithe muscles possessed.

_Day-yum. Better not let him out of your sight, girlfriend._

Finding little else interesting in her feed, Yang moved to close the app before her lilac eyes spotted one more notification tab, opening her friend requests if for no other reason then to get the annoying little red dot to disappear. A bunch of obvious scam and catfish accounts were denied with practiced ease, another couple random accounts were shown the metaphorical door, winnowing the field down to three.

_Can't believe I didn't already have those two friended. And...Olivia Arc?_

A quick tap brought up the profile, confirming her suspicions when she looked up the mutual friends listing to find a single entry.

_Should be good for some blackmail fuel at least._

Tapping the 'accept' button, she scrolled down the feed and found the most recent post.

'**Olivia Arc** was at **Shion Village** with **Jaune** **Arc**, **Terra** **Cotta-Arc** and **four** others' was the header, a simple comment of _'Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose'_ underneath.

_Whatever. Have to ask Vomit Boy, I guess._

Another swipe up brought a picture with it, and Yang's eyes went wide, her jaw dropping in shocked delight at what she was now looking at. A small, scrawny, very obviously flustered, and above all _irritated _Jaune Arc, hair done up in twin pigtails, sat on a couch, surrounded by a gaggle of seven blond-haired, blue-eyed girls of various ages and demeanors, ranging in apparent age from their late teens to a couple toddlers. Clutched in his adorable little hands was a handwritten sign with a simple, one word message.

'Help'

"Oh. My…" Yang began, nearly speechless.

"What?" Ruby piped up, leaning over to see what the cause for concern was. Yang was so busy searing the image into her mind that she barely heard the initial snort from her sister that heralded the arrival of a full-on giggling fit from her. "Send that to me, Yang!"

"Oh, I'm sending that to _everyone_," she replied with a mischievous grin, already having tagged the rest of her team, Nora, Pyrrha Nikos, Coco, Velvet Scarlatina, Sun Wukong and a gaggle of others before finally hitting the share button.

"Hey, there's another pic." Ruby added, reaching over Yang's shoulder to flick the first image to the side.

This time, the couch and background were different, but everyone was perfectly in place again, expressions and even outfits nearly identical, sign included, despite this picture being obviously more recent from the ages of everyone present. The only major difference was the addition of a cocoa-skinned ravenette, seated immediately adjacent the lone male on the couch. Her expression was almost fearful, teeth clenched in a nervous grin, her eyes wide behind her red-rimmed glasses. The new addition also held a sign, clearly meant to go along with Jaune's.

'Us'

"Who's that, Yang?" Ruby asked with genuine curiosity.

"Dunno," she replied, gears beginning to turn in her head. Yang scrolled back up, expanding the list of people Olivia had tagged and selecting Terra's link as the only one not listed as simply 'Arc', the others being Renard, Rose, Marguerite and Violette. The woman's profile took a moment to load, but the profile picture quickly confirmed Yang's suspicion, matching the group photo. "Hmmm, from Argus, lead technician at Argus InterComm," she mumbled as she read.

"Isn't that where Jaune went for winter break?" Ruby asked.

"I..._think_?" Yang replied, unsure herself, her brow furrowing before she swiped up to look at what the woman shared on her public feed, drawing a startled gasp from her throat.

The first, and most recent, post was simply titled '5 months!', with a grainy black and white picture from a prenatal ultrasound the only accompaniment. Lilac eyes blinked several times before she double checked the date of the post, only a couple weeks prior. Yang's full lips barely moved as she mumbled to herself, the thumb of her right hand tapping at the other fingertips as she did the math in her head.

"Son of a bitch," she said softly at last, through an awestruck grin.

"Huh?" Ruby asked, puzzled still.

"Well, sister dearest, I regret to inform you that Jaune Arc is _officially _off the market," Yang replied with a wry grin.

Silver eyes blinked once. Twice.

A storm of emotions threatened to take over Ruby's voice. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Despair. Betrayal.

In the end, a committee approach was approved; all of them merged into a single word.

"_WHAT_?!"

* * *

**June 11th**

A soft sigh could be heard in an otherwise quiet hospital room, followed by an irritated grunt.

In the considered opinion of one Cardin Emerson Winchester the Third, pain, for lack of a better word, _sucked_.

Aura could indeed do wondrous things. Staving off death, granting strength where it wasn't, enhancing it where it _was_ in his case; all manner of amazing feats and semblances.

So why did this _hurt_ so damn much?

The doctors called it _phantom pain_, but that didn't make it any less real to him. With a flash of anger he forced himself to look down at his left arm again. What was _left_ of his left arm, if he was being honest with himself, which was rather difficult these days. A metal interface plate covered up the scarred stump, the point of truncation a few inches below the elbow. A combat-rated cybernetic limb would be fitted there eventually, but that was the final step in the process.

How he'd come to _loathe _that word.

Cardin wasn't a patient man by any stretch of the imagination, though the seven weeks he'd spent in the hospital wing of Beacon Academy was slowly teaching him the value of that particular virtue. The problem with aura was when you were trying to _not_ quickly heal from something, as was the case with the neural link hardware that backed up the interface he now wore. Those connections had to be organic, raw, and minimally scarred. In other words, the exact opposite of what happened when aura healed the body, especially around a foreign body. He'd been on scar and aura suppressors for a little over a month and a half now, thankfully dodging the more egregious side effects, instead lucking out with just three or four migraines per week. Plus the immunodeficiency. _Plus _the fatigue. _Plus _the nausea. _Plus_ the diarrhea when he actually _could_ keep food down.

If Cinder Fall wasn't already dead, he'd be at the head of the rather long line to change that in _spectacularly _violent fashion. Well, maybe not the _head_ of the line, but certainly close to it. That others had suffered more than he was not lost on Cardin, even if it wasn't usually second nature for him to consider the feelings of others outside of his family and closest friends.

The rest of his team was less of a fixture around his hospital room now than immediately after the Battle of Beacon, especially since Russell had gone home to Vacuo for the Summer, but Dove and Sky still came by a couple times a week to visit. Usually it was just playing cards or shooting the breeze, though they'd at least been considerate enough to not bring lunch with them after the first visit ended in a less-than-kind exchange.

The hospital gown was hardly flattering to his form, either, given his rather sizeable frame, and he was constantly reminded of that fact every time he got out of bed to use the bathroom. At least wheeling the IV tree behind him had become second nature at this point. Feeling particularly less than dead this morning, Cardin elected to get out of bed and at least try and _look _human. Teeth brushed and his now-slightly-shaggy orange hair wet and combed, he decided to undergo the arduous trek three doors down the hall to the small sunroom for the long-term patients, posterior breeze be damned.

The windows here looked out over the bay, the bustle of Vale barely visible in the distance under the late morning sun. The casters on his IV tree clattered over the transition between the tile hallway and the thin, institution-grade carpet that was laid to soften the room a bit, and Cardin ambled over to the window, placing his free hand on the glass as he took a deep breath from the exertion.

"Heyyy, cute butt!" he heard a slightly haggard female voice behind him.

Cardin turned around abruptly, spotting the only other occupant of the sunroom easily enough. A young woman regarded him with a soft, amused smirk, tinted with much of the same malaise that threatened to drop him to the floor if he let it. Her hair was, well, _gone_, eyebrows included, her skin a sallow, pale tone that better fit a cadaver than a living, breathing person. Her wheelchair had a medication tree nearly identical to his own perched above her shoulder, plastic IV lines leading down into the mess of medical tape on the back of her right hand. Her hospital gown hung somewhat slack on her slender frame, though not so loose as to completely conceal her modest bust, the short sleeves still reaching her elbows. A blanket covered her from the waist down, the edge dragging slightly on the floor. The girl's most striking feature, however, was a set of sparkling turquoise eyes, undimmed by her ordeals, roving appreciatively over his bulky frame.

"Uh, thanks?" Cardin replied, glad he was at least wearing his boxer briefs under the thoroughly unflattering gown. "You uh, new?" he asked, conversation coming with difficulty given his rather lonely existence of late.

"Yeahhhh, just got out of ICU this morning. _Toooootal_ drag down there," she drawled with an exaggerated tone. "Sooooo, what're ya in for?" she asked with a wry smirk. Cardin simply waved his stump in response, what little good cheer he had built up sinking into a slight frown.

"Bummer," the sickly girl replied, the twinkle in her eyes still there somehow. Cardin sighed softly, trundling his bulk back towards the girl and taking a seat on the padded bench next to her. He wasn't _right_ next to her, but close enough that he could reach out if he wanted to. He couldn't quite put his finger on _why_ he'd want to, but it was an option nonetheless. Sure, he'd always had a thing for smaller girls, beyond just reinforcing his feeling of personal strength at least. And those eyes were _just _the right kind of playful.

"So, umm, cancer?" he asked, immediately cringing inwardly at both his awkwardness and stupidity. The last month had really taken its toll on his limited conversational skills, it seemed. If she were a cancer patient, she wouldn't be here at Beacon, but rather somewhere down in Vale. Thankfully, she seemed to shrug it off easily enough, an infectious smirk from the perky girl setting his heart at ease.

"Nah, I just hit the side effect jackpot. You name it, _I got it_. At least I don't have to worry about dyeing my roots for a while. Plus, get this, I'm _allergic_ to Clademanimol. Been in an induced coma for the last month. _Suuuuper_ lame," she pronounced, cutting both hands to her sides, palms down.

"Yeah, I hate that shit too," Cardin commiserated, the side effects of the aura blocking medication being responsible for the vast majority of his current symptoms. A moment later, another thought cut through the fog in his brain, but before he could voice it, his doctor walked into the sunroom.

"Ahhhh, good. You're comfortable?" he asked, clearly speaking to Cardin's companion, and getting a nod in return. "If you'd like to go back to your room, I need to check your implants, and…"

"I'm good here, Doc. Not like people aren't gonna see 'em eventually," she added, completely unfazed by whatever he wanted to do. "Besides," she amended, turning to Cardin, "you already showed me _yours,_" she said with a mischievous wink.

The doctor knelt, gently lifting her blanket up, placing the slack in her lap and confirming suspicions Cardin had gained largely through the process of elimination. She straightened what was left of her legs, presenting for examination the pair of interface plates grafted onto her legs just below the knee. Cardin could only marvel at how well his companion seemed to be coping, with what was clearly a more daunting injury. Then again, he _had_ learned a lesson about finding strength in unexpected places several months ago in the forest of Forever Fall.

"Looking good, no discoloration," their doctor began, inserting two small plug devices into the pair of metal interface plates before pulling out his scroll to examine diagnostic data. "Diagnostics show green all around," he added with a slight smile. "How do you feel?"

"Shorter, probably," Cardin cut in, drawing a peeved sideways glance from both doctor and patient.

"That was _my_ joke," she remarked acridly. "_Ass_," she added, sticking her tongue out at Cardin for a moment. "And I'm feeling _awake_. Can't wait to hit the club!" she replied optimistically.

"That might be a little further down the road, but once we've got your prosthetics fitted, you'll hardly miss a step."

"Will I be ready for the school year?" she asked anxiously.

"I'm optimistic, but rehab is going to be hard. Have to walk before you can run, after all," the doctor stated sagely. "You've got an appointment with the prosthetist at noon tomorrow, please be sure not to miss it. We're still trying to clear our backlog from the attack."

"Speaking of, Doc?" Cardin interrupted, his impatience rushing to the fore.

"Ahh, yes. You were next on my list, actually. If you'd like to go back to your room?" he asked, plucking the diagnostic plugs from the girl's legs and pocketing one.

"Fair's fair. Not feeling up to walking back down the hall anyway."

"Aww, I wanted to check out that _fine_ backside again," his snarky companion pouted.

Their doctor could only shake his head and smile softly at the girl's antics, inserting the diagnostic plug into Cardin's stump and reviewing the data once again. "Everything looks in order, Cardin. I'll put in the order to take you off your meds, both of you actually. And I can slot you in…" he began, tapping away at his scroll, "Tomorrow at twelve-thirty. Second floor, room two thirty-four, the both of you," he added, retrieving the plug and moving to leave.

Cardin felt lighter than air, the weight lifted from his broad shoulders shocking in its absence.

"Oh, that's _awesome_, Doc! I don't think I could've put up with my boy here being such a buzzkill much longer. He was _totes _broken up about having to drop his juggling major at clown college," the bald girl beside him fired back, a playful grin on her otherwise haggard face.

Cardin could only facepalm, her barb piercing through what grumpily stoic bearing he had left. Or, rather, he _tried_ to facepalm, only to belatedly realize that his left elbow was in his right hand, and his stump was waving in the air, totally ineffective at _actually _covering his blushing face. He could only blink in surprise and embarrassment as the girl at his side snorted for several seconds before bursting into a tinkling, high-pitched laugh. Cardin could only glower softly, but even that faded slowly as he felt his chest begin to shake with suppressed laughter of his own.

"Sooooooo... Nubby? Rehab buddies?" she asked cheerfully.

"I guess so, Twinkletoes, yeah," he said, smiling softly at her infectious enthusiasm; that bright, sparkling laughter lifting his spirits higher than they'd been since his injury. "Cardin Winchester." He added, straightening a bit and offering his hand, which she took with a stronger grip than he anticipated, given her appearance.

"Neon Katt," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

* * *

**June 15th**

Arthur Watts wasn't easily perplexed, that much was certain.

But, even accounting for his personal distaste for his petulant and sadistic colleague and her methods, he was still mystified just how Cinder Fall had failed Her Grace in such _spectacular _fashion. Everything had been in place, his own contribution online and ready to strike, and then...disaster.

Something had been overlooked, a loose end not tied up or that none of them had thought of, and it had led to Cinder's discovery and eventual death. An 'i' not dotted, 't' not crossed. Maybe it was simply bad luck. Surely, she had gone out with a bang, though. Even with the general suppression of details by the Valerian press corps, the amount of construction workers gathering every day at the airship docks was evidence enough of the scale of destruction at Beacon Academy. Several students and at least one of the faculty had also perished, not to mention the minor Grimm incursion triggered by the population's general fear after the principal dust magazine at Beacon had gone up in a massive explosion.

Still, they had no relic, no Fall Maiden, no Cinder even. Emerald Sustrai was missing, rumored captured; Mercury Black had dropped off the map entirely. Their hold on Adam Taurus and thus the White Fang was effectively gone, though potentially recoverable, if more diplomatic means could be found to address the mercurial faunus. Beacon still stood, the Cross Continental Transmit Tower was operational, and Ozpin still pulled the threads of the web from his haughty spire. The Atlesian military still stood as a largely benevolent force in the eyes of the public, and General Ironwood its sternly fair leader. That last one irked Watts no end, but was tempered by the one saving grace of the whole debacle. The one _good_ thing that had come of the whole operation could be laid squarely at _his_ feet.

The Black Queen Virus had never been activated, which meant no one outside of Salem's council even knew of its _existence_.

He was somewhat limited by how he had originally written the code, but was making do with what he could, and making do was worth quite a lot, actually. There was so much information he had access to now that it was quite overwhelming to try and take in, like a man drinking from a waterfall. Security feeds, historical archives, personnel files, all there for the taking, so long as he was careful. The virus was designed to be subtle in its infiltration only, not its execution, which wasn't necessary considering the original plan. Therefore, Arthur could not alter its programming remotely, nor could he move massive amounts of data without running into potential countermeasures or even worse, being detected.

Thus Watts was peering intently at the large display screen in his Mistrali safehouse, the pale blue of the hardlight display the only illumination present as he worked at gathering intelligence. A small, dust-powered kettle hissed away, boiling water for the Valerian press next to it, already loaded with 28 grams of grounds for instant, and refined, consumption. These items sat upon a small silver serving tray with other associated accoutrements belonging to a coffee service for one. His heritage notwithstanding, Arthur Watts was far more comfortable with the cuisine and custom of Vale than that of his homeland. A soft click was heard as the automatic shutoff activated, and the well-heeled technomancer poured its contents into the waiting press, activating a preset timer on his scroll for precisely four minutes and fourteen seconds, the optimum time necessary for the _perfect_ cup of coffee. Watts spent a moment stretching his arms and shoulders, the amount of time he'd spent behind a keyboard in the last two months clearly taking its toll.

At once, he froze, the hair on the nape of his neck standing on end as he _felt_ rather than saw a new entry into his small office. Seer Grimm were entirely handy little beasts, to his mind, even if they made his skin crawl, and this one was no exception. He spun his chair to address the incoming call, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves as the swirling black and red miasma within the creature's spherical 'head' dissipated to reveal the one person on Remnant that Watts truly feared.

"Good evening, my Queen. How may I be of service?" He began in his oily baritone voice.

"Report." Salem said evenly, her tone cold and even.

"I have access to any archive connected to Beacon's network, and have made a few links into the city itself, though not as deep of an access level. There is a problem in all of this, however, Your Grace. I have to balance how much I access against the risk of premature discovery."

"Premature?" She replied, an eyebrow raised slightly over her red eyes.

"Yes, ma'am, the virus will be discovered by sheer happenstance eventually. I can only do so much without risking accelerating that timetable. I can get you anything you ask for, but the more secure the item to be found, the greater the risk involved. Accessing sensitive files will draw eyes we don't want," he admitted easily.

"You sound less than confident, Arthur," Salem said with an edge in her voice. The animosity was picked up and relayed by the seer in her throne room, the dangling tendrils in front of Watts beginning to writhe ominously.

"I am not in the habit of promising something I cannot deliver on, Your Grace. Such hubris tends to get people killed, does it not?" he replied with a small smile. Cinder was _definitely_ the least favorite person he'd ever been forced to work with.

"Indeed," Salem replied drily, the Grimm before him calming visibly. "I would hate to lose yet another asset."

"I am ever at your service, my Queen." Arthur Watts cooed subserviently.

"See that you never forget that. For now, ensure that you remain available and connected to Ozpin's files, and ready to strike if the need arises." Salem said with the ennui of the truly powerful.

"As you command. Is there anything else you require of me?" Watts added, ever eager to advance the priority of his own desires in the eldritch sorceress' eyes.

"Yes. I need someone found. They have taken something from me. I want it returned, and I want them held accountable. They were last seen in central Anima." She added, not giving him much to work with until another seer floated into view, a slightly distorted image of a face suspended within the dome.

Watts' eyes narrowed slightly, his sharp mind already tickled by the barest hint of familiarity.

"I may already have something for you, ma'am. I need to double check the files I've already accessed."

"Forward what you find to Hazel. He's already in the area. Perhaps he can prove himself as useful as you have, Arthur," Salem added with the barest hint of a smile.

"One can hope, Your Grace." Watts answered with a warm grin, before the seer darkened again, floating away down the hallway to its home in the closet. Arthur waited for several more moments before letting out a heavy sigh of relief. It simply wouldn't do to show weakness anywhere where Salem had the slightest chance of noticing.

Returning to his work, Watt's well-manicured fingers began tapping away, opening up the student files he'd managed to copy so far. Sorting by gender eliminated more than half of the candidates, and going down the list alphabetically got him his target almost immediately. Bringing up the file, he perused it for a moment before his timer chimed softly on his desk. Pressing the piston down, the gentleman scientist poured his coffee into a tall glass mug with silver hardware, finishing it off with a well-measured drizzle of hazelnut syrup from a small bottle sitting on the tray. A long handled silver spoon served well to stir the mixture as the meticulous Atlesian read the information on hand.

_I dare say your days on Remnant are numbered, my boy. You'll wish you actually __**had **__been expelled after all. A five year old would have seen those transcripts were fakes._ Watts mused silently. _Amateurs_ monologued. With a few more keystrokes, the profile was sent on its way, along with the last known location from the boy's scroll, a brief message following to explain to the mountain that was Hazel Rainart what was required of him. Nearly a minute went by, and the slender Atlesian took a test sip of his coffee just as the acknowledgement came back from his associate.

"Perfect," he said aloud.

* * *

**June 21st**

A soft groan could be heard from a hospital bed as amber eyes flicked half-open in the darkness. A deep breath was attempted, only to be cut off by a soft hiss of pain, the young woman's frame twitching beneath the thin blanket. Her head rolled gently to her right, taking in the screens displaying her vital data, all of which were beginning to get erratic with her waking motions. Her limbs felt leaden, lifting her head a mere inch a colossal undertaking. Taking further inventory, she could feel the various tubes entering her body at various points. Surgical tape kept an IV in place on the back of her right hand, and a decidedly uncomfortable pair of catheters were inserted to remove bodily waste. The worst, however, was a feeding tube that snaked uncomfortably through her sinus cavity, shaky hands slowly lifting to remove it. Her gag reflex triggered, spiking adrenaline into her veins as the foreign object dragged through her nostril before being flung to the floor. A series of dry coughs slowly alleviated the woman's malaise, and her hands found her face, fingers slowly tracing over the web of scar tissue on the left side of her face. Her visage became a mask of confusion, the aftermath of her injuries finally enough to truly send her spiralling into despair.

"Hehhhh...heeeelllo?" she finally rasped weakly. "Hello!?" she reiterated with a little more force.

She had just long enough to start to panic before a nurse arrived, the older woman's face switching from urgent concern to relief in the span of a heartbeat.

"Good to see you awake, Amber. How do you feel?"

"W-where am I?" she asked hesitantly.

"ICU at the hospital, Beacon Academy, Miss Herbst. You've been in a coma since you got here, a couple days after the Battle of Beacon. You must have been stuck under the rubble for a while before they found you," she added, relaying what had been told to her the first shift she'd had Amber under her care. "My name's Dauphine, by the way. I'm the night shift head nurse."

"What did you call me?" she asked, brain still fuzzy on details.

"Amber. Amber Herbst. That's the name on your chart. Do you go by a nickname, or your middle name maybe?" Dauphine asked helpfully.

She could only ponder the question for several seconds, fighting the feeling that while it was the right answer to give the woman, it wasn't actually her name. "No, Amber is fine. Sorry, still a little fuzzy. How long have I been under?"

"A little over two months. Got here a little after everyone else."

"Everyone else? I...I was in the woods. By myself," Amber stammered slightly, a blur of images assaulting her mind, vying for dominance. A small child, hurt and alone. Eyes, dark as midnight set against a white face. Leaves, whirling about in an icy tempest. Orange hair under a bowler hat. A white glove holding a large spider. Pain. _Pain_. **_Pain_**.

If Amber could hear the alarms beeping next to her, she paid them no heed, her eyes squinted shut against the sensory overload. Of more concern was the blazing nimbus that had sprung to life over her unopened eyes, Dauphine stepping forward to try and steady her broken patient, lest she lose control of whatever semblance she happened to possess. Such occurrences were sadly common in her line of work, and thankfully she had the training to be able to deal with them.

Usually.

A calming hand on Amber's shoulder and another on her brow pressed her gently back into her bed, Dauphine shushing the tormented woman much as she would her own children, her voice gentle and warm. "Easy, Amber. You're safe now, okay? You're going to be taken good care of. There you go, easy does it," she continued, her voice trailing off in volume as Amber slowly succumbed to her fatigue and lost consciousness again. Watching the younger woman's chest slowly resume normal respiration, Dauphine at last breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the intensive care unit came with reinforced walls and automatic blast doors, but that wouldn't have saved her had things gone truly wrong. Even now, her eyes darted about, her fear spiking once more as she spied the extensive dusting of hoarfrost covering the walls of the room. She hadn't even noticed the temperature drop.

Taking several wobbly steps to exit the room, Dauphine wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her bright pink scrubs before making her way back to the nurse's station. Dropping into her chair like a marionette with its strings cut, she brought up Amber's chart on the display in front of her, annotating the episode and rereading the information contained within until her head flinched back slightly at something she'd never noticed before.

_Well, if it's there, it's there for a reason_, she thought, reaching for her scroll and dialing manually rather than from her contact list. Several rings were heard before her call was answered, the voice on the other end surprisingly not groggy, given the lateness of the hour.

"Yes, sir, this is Dauphine Toulouse in the ICU. I apologize for waking you, Headmaster, but the instructions in the file were quite specific," she began. "Yes, sir. She's awake. Understood," she added before the call was terminated from the other end. "Listen up, people," she called out to the four other nurses under her. "Ozpin's going to be down here in about ten minutes. Make sure everything is in order, all right?" she added needlessly.

She had a good crew.


	8. Moments of Transition pt 2

**Chapter 8**

**Moments of Transition**

**(part 2)**

**June 22nd**

The scent of wood smoke was heavy in the humid afternoon air, the morning breeze having long since died. The village gate in the old Animan style had been battered open with considerable force, one half of the wooden structure tilted askew and dangling from its mangled iron hinges. A massive figure strode through the sundered archway, nut-brown hair done in a long pony tail down his back, a long, open fronted coat in green and brown covering the man's nearly eight foot frame. A short, well-kept beard framed his squarish face, wide, hazel-colored eyes flitting quietly to and fro, taking in the scene of devastation before him.

It was hardly the first time Hazel Rainart had seen a village overrun, and would definitely not be the last, and thus he maintained his placid demeanor even in the face of tragedy. He plodded methodically forward, whatever optimism he might have had at finding his target rapidly fading as he saw the condition of the buildings around him. Torn paper windows with splintered wooden frames were everywhere, and several of the structures had been burnt to the ground entirely. There were scattered bullet holes throughout the town as well, indicating that the settlement had gone down fighting at the very least.

Hearing rather than seeing he wasn't alone, Hazel picked up his pace, rounding a corner and arriving at the central square of the village. A lone figure was present, tending to a large pile of smoldering wood, the remains of what appeared to be a massive bonfire. Short even to anyone but him, Hazel paused briefly, before recognizing the slight awkwardness of youth in the way they carried themselves. Deep brown skin was crowned with a short-cropped coif of platinum blonde hair, a set of dark miner's goggles perched below a widow's peak, sweeping back aggressively with the sides of the scalp shaved clean. A loose, flowing head covering had been dropped around the neck, cream-colored fabric forming a crumpled ring about the neck and shoulders, a hallmark of Vacuan fashion. A well-worn black leather vest was festooned with pockets and pouches, bits and bobs dangling from zipper pulls were jingling softly as they moved. A long-sleeved dirty white shirt covered obviously massive arms, which were folded in contemplation, the loose, billowing sleeves almost concealing the curved, four inch black claws tipping every finger. The cargo pockets of their pants were stuffed to the brim as well, the dark brown fabric strained near to bursting to contain everything. A pair of scuffed, steel-toed brown work boots completed the outfit, the entirety of which looked as if the wearer had been rolling around in the dirt for the last few hours, with a healthy sprinkling of sooty smudge marks. A large sledgehammer rested on the ground, its four foot haft sticking straight up, the craftsmanship and intricately woven leather grip surface indicating that this was no mere tool, but rather the weapon of a Huntsman.

That hypothesis was confirmed quickly as the figure whirled about, easily grabbing and spinning the weapon in a full circle before it came to rest diagonally across their body, the impact of the midpoint of the shaft into the hunter's left palm more than sufficient to snap open a twenty inch military pick that had previously laid flat against the haft. The back end of the hybrid weapon now sported a short cone of orange flame, emitting from an inch-wide hole in the hammer face.

"Oi! Who'zat then?" Hazel was challenged, the voice higher pitched than he might have expected, and carrying a light, twanging accent to boot.

"Relax, I'm just looking for someone," he reassured the pale-haired youth.

"You and everyone else, mate. Nobody left 'ere but the cleanup crew. Survivors buggered off to 'iganbana, two days north of 'ere," the Huntsman replied, the tension slowly falling from his voice.

"I came through on my way here. They told me the cleanup crew hadn't reported back yet," Hazel said evenly, still advancing in as non-menacing a fashion as someone of his obvious bulk and capability could, his hands open and held a little farther than shoulder width apart.

"We ain't _done_ yet, mate. In any case, you'll wanna talk to the boss fella," came the reply, the flame from the hammer flickering out with a soft pop. "Down that street," the rough youth indicated with a nod of the head.

"Thank you," he replied quietly, unsurprised when the pick wielder followed him after several steps, escorting a potential looter. The oddly matched pair moved quietly, only the occasional crunch of gravel underfoot heard in the still air. Passing the blasted ruins of what could only have been the local dust shop, and a small storefront with a pictographic sign indicating it was a carpenter's shop, they arrived at a small noodle stand on a street corner. Three older men were seated there, all obviously huntsmen from their garb to their weapons, and a fourth of their number worked at the wok, apparently the designated cook.

"Ey, Carlos. We got a visitor," Hazel's escort announced, getting the group's attention. One of them stood, a stocky male with light caramel skin and closely cropped ebon hair looking over Hazel with a practiced eye.

"Carlos Marron," he said in a clipped, professional manner that still conveyed some warmth.

"Hazel Rainart. I'm looking for someone, a colleague. A young blond huntsman. He wasn't in Higanbana, and not a local here either," he stated calmly.

"I see. In that case, I'm truly sorry. We were on the ground the day after the attack was reported. Checked the surrounding forest for two miles in every direction. We didn't find any blondes, but several bodies were burned or mauled beyond recognition. No trails outside of the refugees heading to Higanbana, or a few stragglers that we eventually found dead just outside the village. Here," he said, handing over a tablet-sized scroll. "We documented the dead there, pictures, any supporting evidence, pocket trash, scrolls, identification, personal effects and the like. Two hundred forty-seven dead. Took us two days to build the pyre," he added solemnly as Hazel began flicking through the pictures. "Roy, is that fire out?" he asked.

"As out as it's gonna get, boss," the dusty Huntsman replied.

"So, _no_," Marron countered with a knowing smirk. "Go make sure it's completely out. We don't want anyone who tries to resettle Shion coming back to find it burned to the ground. They've been through enough already," he gently chided. "Once you're _actually _done, come back and get some lunch. We'll be moving out afterwards," he said with a softening expression.

"Foine," Roy grumbled, stomping off.

"All the energy of youth, that one," Carlos remarked idly.

"He lacks discipline," Hazel remarked drily, his sausage-thick fingers still swiping through the gruesome gallery of the dead.

Carlos wore a soft, discrete smile, offered in response for a brief moment before answering. "Good in a fight though, especially for a student. Not that we've been doing much fighting the last few years. We always seem to draw these assignments. This is CORL's twelfth since we graduated Haven. Not the glitz and glamor a kid like Roy dreams of, that's for sure. An actual academy education will go a long way with that one."

Hazel gruntly softly in distaste, his personal opinion on the Huntsman Academies likely not to go over well with these four. Granted, that opinion didn't necessarily extend to _them_, and neither did he have orders for their death, and so the giant remained his otherwise gentle self. This lasted several more seconds until the next picture stopped him cold.

Carlos saw the Hazel's expression change, and leaned in to look at what had happened to garner such a reaction. "I thought you were looking for a blond? You know this man?"

"Yes. I didn't know he was here as well," Hazel replied grimly.

"Well, if you can give us a name to go with the picture, we'll put it…"

"I will take care of informing his family," Rainart said flatly, brooking no argument it seemed.

"Right. I'll mark that one accounted for then. We've got an airship at the dock on the south side of town, heading back to Mistral, if you need a lift," The team leader offered.

"I'll walk, thank you," he deflected calmly, at last reaching the end of the files and handing back the tablet. "It appears my other colleague may not have been here after all," Hazel concluded, beginning to walk towards the south with purpose, seeming to ignore the early season monsoon clouds on the horizon.

* * *

**June 24th**

"Miss Nikos? They're pulling the car around back," came the voice of Pyrrha's assistant, muffled by the door of her private dressing room. Theater season in Argus didn't start for another month, and thus she'd been afforded the luxury typically reserved for the star of the show. Granted, it was only for the day, but the privacy was the one perk of her position that Pyrrha took full advantage of whenever she could. This latest stop on her promotional tour was the one she'd been looking forward to, both for the opportunity to see her family, as well as the smaller gathering she had voluntarily attended immediately after her paid appearance.

"Thank you, Cypress!" she called back, redacting her true emotion from her voice with practiced ease.

The incoming class of Sanctum Academy was full of bright, determined faces, all of whom looked up to her not solely for her fame, but even more so for her ability. A long, and thorough, Q&A session had been all over the map, with students asking about the Vytal Festival, Beacon, fighting, Grimm, boys, cereal, weapon theory, hunter ethics (from a particularly shrewd student), Grimm again, Vale, boys again, tournaments, weapons again, and a host of other, more esoteric topics.

The quieter portion of the event was the individual meet and greet, several of the incoming freshmen having brought pictures or other memorabilia for Pyrrha to sign. The children were, for the most part, less pushy than the parents, but on balance, it was ultimately a pleasant time for her.

So why was she fighting back tears?

Even if she wanted to pretend to be clueless, Pyrrha knew better, and facing the large makeup mirror, her plastic facade slipped, her face sliding into a melancholic smile.

All because of a twelve year old boy.

In fairness, it was hardly his fault. Jacob Greene was an Argus native, and a huge Pyrrha Nikos fan as a result, deciding early on in his life that he wanted to follow in her footsteps. He had been the last in line, passing a dog-eared copy of Eutarkos Nikos' "_Combat in the Second Age_" across the table to be autographed. This had certainly gotten her attention, Pyrrha's great-grandfather's work having been central in her early desires to become a Huntress. Her eyes flicked up from the book to examine him, and a soft gasp had escaped her throat before she caught it. The boy was blessed with a pair of bright, inquisitive blue-green eyes, framed by a slightly squared jawline and an unruly head of strawberry blonde hair. That familiar Pumpkin Pete hoodie was draped over his shoulders, unusually broad for someone his age. The conversation had been brief, but cordial, the boy gushing awkwardly upon finding his idol to be such a well-grounded woman. She didn't remember much of the substance of their talk, but rather the emotional content thereof.

All she could think of now was missed opportunities, and doors slammed shut, never to be reopened. She'd had her chance, she'd never taken that leap of faith, and now he was gone.

It _hurt_.

Even if Pyrrha knew she should be happy for him, and supportive, it still _hurt_.

Jaune had held secrets before, arguably even bigger than what she had now stumbled into, but he had promised her to keep nothing from her again. So many times in her short career she had been guaranteed something, only to find the promise evaporate behind hidden loopholes, veiled platitudes or agents' fees hidden in the fine print. _That _was the deepest cut of all. He didn't trust her to know this about him. Was he ashamed? Unsure whether she would approve? The doubt gnawed at Pyrrha like nothing she'd ever felt, and the fact that she'd messaged him half a dozen times since leaving Beacon without a reply did nothing to help her state of mind, especially when she had received confirmation that her videos at least had been delivered successfully.

For not the first time, she pondered reaching out to _her_, but immediately banished the thought, allowing Jaune to reveal everything to his partner in his own time. Pyrrha had to demonstrate she was worthy of Jaune's trust more than she already had, which also was painful, in order to be brought into his innermost circle again.

"Car's ready, Miss Nikos," Cypress informed her through the door, and Pyrrha grabbed a damp towel from the provided tray, the warmth soothing as she pressed it to her face, trying to steady her visage before she went back out into public view.

"Thank you, Cy. I'll be out in a minute," Pyrrha called back, tossing the towel onto the vanity. She squared her shoulders, checking her appearance one last time as she stood up. Her trademark combat gear looked flawless, as always, a minor adjustment to her crown the only necessary fix. A brief moment of exertion called Miló and Akoúo̱ onto her back harness, the last touch on the image of the Invincible Girl.

Opening the door, she found Cypress McElroy waiting attentively, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled halfway up his forearms, a pewter-colored vest and antique gold necktie filling out the outfit above a pair of complementary grey slacks. The narrow glasses perched on his nose and short, fashionable haircut completed the image of a perfect personal assistant; attentive, sharp and hard-working.

"What's on the agenda, Cy?" Pyrrha asked, again thankful to her sponsors for the young man's presence.

"Dinner with your parents, as you requested. You've got an interview with the Argus Chronicle at nine tomorrow morning, followed by a lunchtime speaking engagement, so I recommend turning in after dinner, Miss Nikos. I'll meet you at the house at seven thirty, if that's all right," Cypress rattled off easily, double checking his scroll to ensure he hadn't missed anything.

"That should work, thank you, Cy," Pyrrha replied easily, knowing she'd have already awoken, done some light training and eaten breakfast by then.

The pair began walking down the hall, finding the back entrance quickly. Cy opened the door, peeking out to ensure that security was in place before he waved his charge over. It wasn't that anyone thought Pyrrha incapable of defending herself; rather they were protecting her privacy, and _punctuality_, above all else. Two of them were local contractors in cheap yellow windbreakers. The third, and only traveling member of the detail, was Nolan Porfirio, his background as a native Vacuan, combat style and weapon all ideally suited to the task. That Pyrrha had taken a small measure of pity on him for his team's rather ignominious elimination in the Vytal Festival Tournament went without saying from her, and without acknowledgement on his part.

Unsurprisingly, there was something for them to do, the three men screening the black limousine from what fan presence there was. The only surprise was the fact that it was a single woman, who made up for her lack of reinforcements by being more focused than any group of people could have been.

"Miss Nikos!" she shouted, a desperate tinge to her voice that didn't bode well for however the altercation was about to go down. The possibility of someone trying to provoke a confrontation and then playing the aggrieved victim was definitely on the table, and so Pyrrha instead chose to not make eye contact, allowing Cy to lead her to the waiting car.

"_MISS NIKOS_!" came the follow-up shriek from her apparently unhinged fan, Pyrrha turning to regard her if for no other reason than to be able to identify her later to the police, should it be warranted. The two local security were having only a slight amount of difficulty in dealing with the woman, something familiar tickling at the back of Pyrrha's mind as she met the blonde's desperate azure eyes, her heart seizing with the next words out of the woman's mouth. "Do you know where my brother is?!" she asked, voice clearly strained.

Time stood still for them both, moments passing before Pyrrha realized that her hands were clasped over her heart. The left hand had curled over the rim of her bronze-and-leather cuirass, clenching fearfully and in danger of bending the metal.

Pyrrha _knew_ that face.

"Let her through, Nolan," she said, fighting down her fear to a mere icy calm. He quirked an eyebrow behind his trademark rose-tinted glasses at breaking protocol, unsure if he'd heard his employer correctly until she cut her gaze slightly to look him directly in the eyes. Nolan nodded to the other two, and they relented, allowing the young woman to walk forward slowly under his narrowed gaze, his hand sliding into his jacket for his collapsible shock baton as a precautionary measure.

"I'm Jaune's sister, Saphron," she said, voice heralding the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Get in," Pyrrha said curtly, standing aside for the distraught Arc before taking her seat beside her, setting her weapons against the front of the cabin. "Do you need a ride home?" she asked, trying to soothe the clearly agitated woman.

"Yes, please," Saph replied, sniffling momentarily. "1123 Wilson Way."

"Gerald?" Pyrrha asked brusquely.

"Understood, ma'am," their chauffeur answered, pulling out of the alley with sure movements.

"Tell me everything," Pyrrha asked, all cheer vanishing from her intense voice.

"We spent our family vacation in Shion, like we always used to do. Everyone but Jaune left on the fifth of June; he had to stay behind because he was reworking his sword. Mom, Dad and the girls caught a connecting flight from Shiroyuri to Orleans, and Terra and I came home to Argus. Jaune said he would follow us here after a couple days, but it's been a week now. And…" Saphron choked back a sob, prompting Pyrrha to lay a hand on her shoulder. "There was a report, on the news this morning. Shion's been destroyed. There's no record of Jaune having made it to Argus, and nothing from the Huntsmen they sent to check Shion. Terra checked yesterday and said that his scroll hasn't pinged anywhere else on the CCT network since the nineteenth of last month. We hoped maybe you had heard from him."

"No, I haven't," Pyrrha admitted sadly.

"I just hope he's okay," Saphron said through her tears.

"As do I, Saphron. I can't imagine a life without him in it anymore," she confessed, her voice catching slightly in her throat. She wasn't crying. She _couldn't_ cry.

Invincible Girls didn't cry.

Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Pyrrha retrieved her scroll, opening the device and accessing her contact list, finding her target at the top of her favorites list. Initiating the call, she held the scroll where Saphron could see it as well while it connected. The background appeared to be a kitchen, though this was largely obscured by the puzzled face of Nora Valkyrie.

"Pyrrha?" she asked quizzically.

"Nora? I thought I called Ren?" Pyrrha replied, equally confused. She'd chosen the girl's soft-spoken, level-headed partner for a reason.

"Oh, you did. Renny's busy making breakfast for us. What time is it there? Where _is_ there? Why are you calling Ren? You finally move on from our lovably dense Fearless Leader? I really don't think Ren-Ren would be interested, no offense," the bubbly Nora rattled off easily, clearly trying to make up for the last eight hours of conversation she'd missed while asleep.

"Nora, that's not important right now. Can I…" she tried to interject before she lost control of the conversation. A whole school year around Nora had at least given her the knowledge of what was needed to keep the erratic girl on task, though sadly not the ability to do so on a consistent basis.

"It's Pyrrha!" she shouted over her shoulder. "I don't know, I was just asking her that," she added before returning her gaze to the scroll. "Do they have pancakes there? What kind of syrup do they have? Did I ask you where you were? Oh, hey there, Jaune's sister! Almost didn't see ya there. Are you guys in a car? That looks like a car."

"Nora, I need…" Pyrrha again tried, Saphron electing to give the girl a small wave and weak smile.

"A _fancy_ car, even. Do you have a chauffeur? Is his name Jeeves? _Please_ tell me it's Jeeves! You and Weiss should…"

"Give Ren the damn scroll!" Pyrrha finally snapped, garnering a moment of shocked silence from Nora.

"Grumpy much? If you wanted to talk to Ren, all you had to do was ask, _sheesh_," she muttered, walking over to her personal pancake chef and holding the scroll up for him.

"Good morning, Pyrrha," he said evenly, his 'like a sloth to the flame' apron covering his chest, complete with an image of the titular animal in a chef's toque tending a grill. "How is your trip coming?" he asked with his typical placid half-smile.

"Ren…" Pyrrha began, pausing to steady her voice before she lost her composure and dragged Saphron down with her. "Jaune's missing."

Lie Ren was never one to not give someone the courtesy of looking them in the eyes during conversation, but the increased focus Pyrrha immediately felt upon her was still striking.

"What?" Nora said, her voice dark with concern and a tinge of anger in her voice, pivoting around to stand next to Ren and fit them both in frame.

"Where?" Ren asked, planning already in motion behind his lavender eyes.

"He was last seen in Shion on the fifth. That's in central…" Saphron began.

"I know the place," he said evenly.

"It's been destroyed, Ren," Pyrrha informed him, drawing several moments of stunned silence from both of them. She would swear that the two of them turned grey before her eyes; probably just a problem with scroll signal in Silverlake.

"We'll need to get to Higanbana then. I'll start looking into transportation when I'm off the call."

"I'll see what I can do from here, Ren. Please be careful," she asked, largely a formality with him.

"We will. We'll be in touch," he replied earnestly, closing the call.

Pyrrha took a deep breath and let it go before speaking again. "Ren and Nora spent a large portion of their childhood wandering Anima. If he can be found, they'll get it done."

Saphron could only lean forward and embrace her in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

"We're here, ma'am," Gerald called back from the driver's seat as the limousine came to a stop. The impeccably dressed driver exited the vehicle, circling adroitly back to open the door for his two passengers. Saph stepped out, aided by Gerald, turning around on the sidewalk to face the limo again.

"Would you like to come in? It's not much, but I'm sure we can scrounge up something to eat on short notice," she said, trying to project an air of hospitality for Pyrrha.

"I…" Pyrrha began, before they were both interrupted from the top of the home's stoop.

"Looking fancy, Saph. What's the occasion?" Terra Cotta-Arc called out from the top of the front steps with a smirk in her voice.

Pyrrha's voice died in her throat, the reality of the woman standing there constricting her heart. A small, seldom-heard voice in her head insisted that Terra wasn't _nearly_ as pretty as she was, and that there had to be some trickery involved for her to be married to Jaune, let alone pregnant. _Maybe they'd gotten drunk_? Then she remembered that she wasn't supposed to know about that, and thus she closed her eyes and shook her head to settle her emotions before speaking again.

"Thank you, Saphron, but I have more calls to make. I should be going," she said uneasily. She _so_ hated this; putting on the mask for people that actually _mattered_. "I'll be doing everything I can to bring Jaune back to his family, I promise," she said with conviction and what little warmth she could muster. She'd contemplated being part of that family more than once, and now it seemed as if that would never come to pass. She reached for a pen and notepad in a small compartment above the mini-fridge, quickly writing down her contact information before she leaned out to hand it to Saph. "If you find out anything else, let me know."

Saphron clutched the slip of paper to her chest, nodding slowly. "Thank you," she whispered, unable to raise her voice further without breaking down again.

Gerald closed the door again, returning to his seat and getting the limousine moving. "Home, Miss Nikos?"

"Yes, Gerald," she said softly, biting her lips for a moment as she contemplated her next move, opening her contact list again and opening another call. This one also took a few moments to connect, and Pyrrha was greeted with a slightly-less-perfect-than-normal heiress, a few silver hairs out of place and her pale blue eyes bleary to go with the collar of her nightgown visible in frame.

"Pyrrha?" Weiss asked quizzically, clearly only half-awake.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Weiss. I need a favor," Pyrrha said evenly.

* * *

**June 26th**

The slow, deep bass rhythm of the clockwork within Beacon Tower was a familiar cadence to Qrow Branwen, though the jaded Huntsman was certainly glad for the fact that it had long since ceased to herald disciplinary action for him. Usually. Not that he really cared anymore, but, you know, the _hassle_.

The elevator chimed as the door opened, reminding the Qrow that he should probably stow the flask for now. Said reminder was duly noted, and summarily ignored. He closed his right, _good_ eye for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. He slipped a couple fingers under his eyepatch to scratch at the still-healing scar tissue under and around it before putting it back into place. A cavalier, mysterious, handsome scoundrel like him had an image to uphold, after all. A final swig of a nice twelve year single malt was had as he stepped out of the elevator, before he wiped his mouth with the back of his right hand, stowing the battered old hip flask in his pocket with his left.

"I would remark on your punctuality, but that would require you to have a working knowledge of the concept," Ozpin began, seated behind his desk with a plethora of tablet scrolls scattered over the surface.

"And people say you can't teach an old dog new tricks," Qrow remarked wryly, his voice raspy with his groggy state. "You could have just told me over the scroll, you know."

"This wasn't something I could trust to scroll traffic. There have been...irregularities, in the network of late. While I cannot say I am an expert on the matter, there have been instances of the entire network slowing down as if overloaded."

"Someone streaming the new season of Clash of Crowns?"

"Not at three in the morning, no. In any case, I also wished to personally check on your recovery," he stated evenly, his fingers steepled over his everpresent cup of coffee.

"It's coming along. Depth perception is still shit, but I'm working through it. So are you gonna tell me why you dragged me outta bed at eleven in the morning?" Qrow groused.

"Truly an unreasonable hour, I agree. But circumstances dictate immediate action." Ozpin replied evenly, despite the gentle ribbing he'd slipped in. "I need you to investigate Haven Academy. There are far too many things going on there that don't quite match up with what Professor Lionheart is telling me. The fact that the people responsible for attacking Amber were able to infiltrate Haven and then be selected for the Vytal Festival tournament is troubling. They were responsible for extensive damage and several deaths before they were brought down, and I do not intend to let that go unanswered," the Headmaster pronounced with an edge in his voice now.

"Me either, Oz," Qrow replied through gritted teeth. His own injuries he could write off as part of the job. But Ruby…

Someone was going to _pay_ for _that_ one.

"How much latitude do I have?"

"We need information more than vengeance, Qrow. This is a new tactic for her. She's never moved against the Maidens in such a fashion. It's either been killing them and taking advantage of the lull as a new host acclimates, or coercing them into cooperation with her goals, usually with threats upon their family. We've largely mitigated the second with our current protocols, but hiccups are sometimes unavoidable. We still don't know exactly how Cinder Fall managed to co opt the power like she did."

"I didn't think anything could surprise you," Qrow replied with trepidation.

"Very little can. Regardless, I would _prefer_ not to be surprised again."

"Understood," he replied gruffly, turning to leave before he stopped. "How's Amber?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Her body is healed. Her mind remains...fractured. I don't know if we would even have gotten her this far without young Mister Arc's help." Ozpin conceded.

"How much does he know?" He asked, trying to keep any student from getting dragged into this mess, that one above any other save his two nieces. Yet another debt from the Battle of Beacon he intended to repay. It didn't hurt that the boy's mother had patched up Team STRQ far too many times for Qrow to count sober, let alone in his perpetual semi-inebriation. That was ancient history, though, her departure from Vale after getting married yet another missed opportunity in a long line of them for Qrow Branwen.

"Only that she was injured and needed help that he might provide. For him, that was all that was required," Ozpin replied with the barest hint of a smile. Keeping Jaune Arc at Beacon despite his transgression was already paying dividends, regardless of Glynda's opinion on the matter. "On that subject, keep your ears open for any hint of Vernal's whereabouts. Not knowing her location is never a good position to be in. I may have need to open the vault at Haven if an answer to the Maiden question does not present itself soon."

"Sure thing, Oz. It'll be tough, though. We don't even know what she looks like grown up. I don't suppose Forrest is available, is he? He's a good flyboy, for not having wings and all." _And he's got good taste in booze_.

"Air dock seven," Ozpin replied, knowing his former student all too well.

"All right then. Keep in touch," Qrow needlessly reminded Ozpin as he turned to leave.

"Of course. Do be careful, Qrow. I don't think this is over," Ozpin warned him.

"When is it ever?" he grumbled back over his shoulder as the elevator door closed behind him.

"Indeed." Ozpin said softly to the now-empty room. Leaning back into his chair, he lifted his mug to his lips, the soothing sip of a fine dark roast warming his throat and chest. Deciding to resume his nominal job for the time being, he reached over and picked up a tablet from his desk, looking to read the final report from the Vale Police Department regarding the continued manhunt for Mercury Black. Letting his mind wander a bit, he nevertheless skimmed through the findings for anything that caught his eye. A slight twitch in Ozpin's face came not from the report, but rather the tablet itself, or rather the tiny light next to the front-facing camera, which blinked out without explanation.

Ancient eyes narrowed in contemplation, the tablet placed aside for the moment.

* * *

**June 28th**

The doors of an Atlesian airship slid open as the vehicle came to a stop, downwash from the dust turbines kicking up a small cloud of dirt and leaves. A quartet of white-armored private security guards, armed with modern Atlesian battle rifles, dropped from the airship and immediately set up a twenty yard box perimeter. The embroidered silver snowflake glyph on a black shoulder patch left little doubt as to their allegiance both to the identically-marked vehicle as well as the company that owned them all. Each man gave an assertive '_clear_!', prompting two more flightsuited crewmen wearing only pistols to exit the airship, making a beeline to the dust depot and paving the way for the only splashes of color in the whole assemblage. They paused at the door, taking in the destruction before them.

To say that the scene before the two young Huntsmen was unfamiliar would be the height of conceit, though the style of buildings in what was left of Shion were a particularly personal reminder of the past for Lie Ren. While not his home, there were enough similarities here to remind him of a town he hadn't seen in a decade. With the barest flicker of movement, Ren realized that Nora was standing by his side, turquoise eyes regarding him with no small amount of concern, her hand gently clasping his shoulder.

"We need to be quick. I don't want us here after dark," Ren pronounced flatly, hiding the fear he felt, capable of fooling anyone not named Nora Valkyrie.

"All right, Ren," She replied, reassuring him with a slight smile that he knew she didn't truly feel.

The pair of air crewmen came dashing back, stopping at the door to shout up towards the cockpit.

"It's empty, sir!"

"Damn it. We'll have to land in Higanbana to refuel and come back tomorrow when we've got more light," he said to Ren and Nora.

"Can you fly there and back before sunset?" Ren asked, knowing time to be of the essence.

"Not a fan of leaving you kids alone here for three hours. Miss Schnee would have my ass if something happened. Besides, I don't know if you can complete the search that quickly with just the two of you," the veteran pilot argued.

"We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves," Ren replied evenly, wisely unwilling to let Nora handle the negotiations. "If more time is required in Shion, we will gladly resume our search tomorrow during daylight. We'll take a rough inventory and decide where we need to focus our efforts."

"All right. Be careful," He replied before thumbing the close-range transmit key. "Mount up, everyone!" he barked through his headset, the air crew boarding shortly before the security detail. Ren and Nora disembarked after, trotting a short distance away from the landing pad before they watched their ride rise and begin making its way north. A still quiet settled over the two childhood friends, their eyes taking full inventory of Shion from their vantage point before the louder of the two decided the scene was too quiet.

"Oh, Fearless Leaderrrrrrrrrrr!" Nora shout-sung. "Come out, come out wherever you arrrrrrrre!" The humidity and terrain conspired to rob them of even an echo for a response. Ren cut his gaze to her, a solitary eyebrow barely raised for her choice of search pattern. "It was worth a shot…" she mumbled guiltily, twisting the toe of her boot in the dirt with her gaze lowered.

"Come on," Ren said calmly, not a hint of rebuke in his voice.

They moved easily through the deserted street leading from the port facility, wary eyes scanning the ruins intently. They both knew Jaune to be resilient in the extreme, but if weighed down by the numbers required to wipe out a village of this size, even the stoutest of Huntsmen would fall. As they neared the town square, Ren's pace slowed and then stopped, his gaze drawn to the dirt of the street even as Nora continued obliviously on.

The footprints were largely muddled, the torrential summer rains that were a common occurrence in this part of Remnant robbing them of definition. The size of some of the disturbances in the dirt indicated a large Grimm, probably an Ursa, had passed through the town during or immediately after the attack, but the signs pointed to a relative lack of the monsters. It was also possible that the villagers had gathered somewhere near the perimeter of the town rather than the center, and thus the Grimm would have concentrated elsewhere. He tried to recall what he could of Shion, and in his musings missed the sound of Nora's footfalls quickening before coming to a dead stop. What _did _get his attention, however, was her voice. It rose in pitch slowly, an unholy amalgam of fear, panic and disbelief contained within a single word.

"_Reennnnnnnnn_?!"

Ren quickly dashed to her position, skidding to a halt behind her as she tentatively stepped forward towards the small courtyard of a demolished house. A sturdy wooden fence reached her waist, one of the center beams from the home having fallen outward, jutting out and over the top of one of the gate posts. Nora's pink-gloved hand reached out, gingerly lifting a scrap of all-too-familiar red cloth that seemed to be trapped between the beam and post, dangling limply in her grasp.

Ren took two more steps forward, reaching out towards her. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right. He wanted to tell her that the large spray of blood on the front wall of the house didn't necessarily mean anything. He wanted to say that the cloth, even with its clearly Mistrali-style marching geometric border in a slightly darker crimson, could be anything. _Anything_ but what they feared it was.

Lie Ren wanted to tell her anything but the truth.

"I'm so tired of this," Nora said, her voice a hoarsely pained whisper, her eyes hidden as he stood behind her.

"Nora…" he replied, at a loss for what to say, for how to comfort her.

With a growling scream born of anguish and rage, Nora quickly spun Magnhild into its hammer form, the head slamming into the fallen beam at the end of another revolution, tilting it up and over to crash into the ruins of the house it had once supported. She set her weapon on the ground, holding the haft with one hand and retrieving the all-too familiar sash with the other before she turned to face Ren and show him what she'd found.

He saw that her face was already streaked in red, the light in her beautiful turquoise eyes dimmer than he'd seen in years even as they sparkled with tears. "Every time I start to care, Ren. _Every _time," she said, her voice harshly cold despite the heated state of her emotions.

Ren could see the turmoil in her carriage and bearing, let alone her voice, and he took a step forward to place his hands on her shoulders, the act and circumstances surrounding it doing more than just stir old memories for him. She stood stock still, unable to return the embrace and hold Magnhild at the same time. Nora dared to close her eyes, trying to derive comfort from Ren's arms, feeling a long breath exit his lungs as it ruffled her hair. After a moment, she could feel it, like the ticklish pinpricks of fresh snow falling on bare skin, but over the entirety of her body. Her eyes flew open, only to see his own closed and the color slowly fading from him.

"Lie Ren, don't you dare, don't you _fucking _dare!" Nora hissed through clenched teeth.

Ren opened his eyes again to find a ginger-haired miniature Ursa in front of him, her hackles raised with murderous intent. He needed to get her under control, and quickly, or they wouldn't survive long enough to be extracted by the SDC security team. "The Grimm…" He began.

"_Let 'em come_," she growled with grim determination.

"Nora…" he tried to counter futilely.

"I don't need this," she replied, voice shaking with rage.

"_I do_," he said softly, squeezing her shoulders gently. It was only then that she truly saw the depths of the emotions that he was trying to desperately suppress, his own eyes misting over. "I can't lose you, Nora. You're...my light. My _everything_. I can't lose you too," he admitted quietly, his voice ragged with fear and pain. Nora quickly enveloped him in a crushing hug, her face buried in Ren's chest, tears staining his green tunic as her hammer fell to the ground.

"I hate you so much right now," she tried to say through a sob, as his arms closed about her, his face burrowed into her orange hair.

Lie Ren was more than accustomed to how Nora talked, how she _thought_. He knew when she was truly happy, when she was sad. He also knew when she was being playful with her exaggerations, and when she was outright lying. And as always, he knew that the proper response to anything of that nature was to correct her with his gentle, simple honesty.

"I love you too, Nora."


	9. Moments of Transition pt 3

**A/N:** I swear this is the last of these. Also, there's a light, lemony scent in here today, for those of you sensitive to such things.

One more thing: big shout out to my new beta reader, Shoober!

**Chapter 9**

**Moments of Transition**

**(part 3)**

**July 5th**

The haze of midsummer reached even to the highest levels of Mistral, though it was not as bad as the full blown heat shimmer of the seedier parts of the city below. Those same steamy quarters of the mountain metropolis were normally the bread and butter of Qrow Branwen's existence; a ready source of information, cheap women and even cheaper booze.

A man had to have his vices, after all. He didn't want to turn into Jimmy Ironwood.

The Mistrali Council, however, did not allow for such debauchery in the hallowed halls of Haven Academy. Thus, Qrow was reduced to doing his job almost completely sober, rationing what little he had left of the fine Vacuan tequila he'd managed to replace his usual scotch with; Forrest Wilson truly was a Godsend. The pale amber anejo sloshed softly in his flask as he took a hit, reveling in the burn that told him he was still alive, no matter how dead he felt inside.

Leonardo Lionheart… even after everything he'd discovered, he'd deserved better. The Headmaster of Haven Academy had been in Ozpin's service even longer than he had, and Qrow had fought beside the Lion of Mistral a handful of times, never doubting the faunus' courage. This was especially true when he had accepted a prominent position in a kingdom that was possibly just as faunus-unfriendly as Atlas itself. To find him dead in his own, locked office, strangled mere hours before his arrival, was a shock even to a jaded Qrow Branwen.

Trained eyes had gone over the scene he'd found, picking out all the details. The ligature marks on his neck were deep and heavily bruised, indicative of great strength, and made it almost impossible to accurately determine what the weapon had actually been. A quick use of his override code granted Qrow access to the computer terminal installed in Leo's desk, and what he'd found had not been promising. Most of Leo's files had been deleted and the server digitally scrubbed to prevent data retrieval. Of greater concern was the message traffic covering the previous six months, likewise erased from existence. A brief call to the folks in the Mistrali CCT office had confirmed that their communication records concerning the Headmaster's terminal had also vanished into the ether.

Outside of the Mistrali Council, only five people on the face of Remnant had the authority and access to do that without leaving a trace. Well, _four_ now. This led Qrow down the only path of reasoning available, and it wasn't a pleasant one.

Leo had been compromised, and by the looks of it, for quite some time.

This called into question everything he knew about the inner circle, and what Lionheart had been entrusted with. The unsuccessful efforts to retrieve the Spring Maiden, for example. Then there were the Huntsman readiness figures for Mistral.

Deaths in the line of duty weren't exactly unheard of, but the last year's casualty rates among the Mistrali ranks were five times that of even Vacuo. Anima had gotten much more dangerous, it seemed. That this had happened was noteworthy in and of itself. That it had gone unreported to the Mistrali Council and Ozpin himself was _unconscionable_. He'd heard rumors among the Huntsmen of Vale that job opportunities in Mistrali territory were plentiful these days, but he'd never put two and two together.

The vista afforded by the perimeter railing of Haven Academy was as good a place as any to collect his thoughts, and so Qrow found himself looking out over the lush green scenery surrounding the mountain city. The breeze out here was also welcome, even as weak as it was, allowing him to feel less stuffy and cooped up. Before he could berate himself, and Ozpin just a little bit, further for missing the obvious signs, Qrow's thoughts were interrupted by the ringtone of his scroll. Sliding the device open, he saw the audio-only prompt, listing his personal pilot for the near future as the contact.

"Hey Forrest, what's up?" he asked. "No video?"

"Like I wanna look at your ugly mug. Hey, listen, I know you're wanting to get going again, but I just had something drop into my lap."

"What's her name, fuckstick?" Qrow replied immediately, knowing that his friend had very similar tastes, and habits, to his own. There was a reason they were such fast friends, after all.

"Miyami, but that's not important. What is important is that she's here on a buying trip for her father's ryokan in Kuchinashi. She's been more than grateful of my offer of safer, and _faster_, passage for her and her cargo than she would have had riding the train," he said, and Qrow knew exactly what form that gratitude was about to, or already _had_ taken. Forrest was one of his best friends for a reason, after all.

"So what do I get out of it?" he asked, surely a paragon of selflessness.

"About a five hour delay and one of the two cases of top grade ouzo she'd set aside for bribing the train guards if it came to it. Mávros Black Label, Qrow," Forrest added to further sell the plan.

"All right, go get your dick wet, just not while you're flying the plane. And if I find out this crap is counterfeit…"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll toss me out over the Grimmlands without a 'chute," he parroted, quite an old and repeated threat between the two. "See you in five hours, bro," he said before disconnecting the call.

_Guess I've got five hours to kill. Hope Vic's hasn't burned to the ground again_, Qrow mused, his longtime favorite watering hole, and covert meeting location, only a short elevator ride away. A rising, mechanical whine could be heard as Qrow's ride spun up, the modified bullhead built for speed and light cargo work dipping its nose low as it accelerated over his position. The engine nacelles pivoted slowly horizontal, building speed as the wings began to provide lift in level flight. Qrow couldn't help but watch with a bemused smile, the ungainly flight of a bullhead was nothing like the true freedom he enjoyed while shifted, but it did have its uses.

The bullhead had just passed out of the range of his hearing, not quite a speck in the distance yet, when it was consumed in a massive ball of bright, sparkling orange flame. Several small chunks of debris, trailing black smoke, rained down on the Animan countryside, the muffled sound of the explosion finally reaching a shocked Qrow, flinching him out of his stunned silence. His eyes narrowed, knowing full well that foul play was involved; bullheads used a mix of gravity dust for vertical lift and shock dust to power the turbines and systems.

Only burn Dust sparkled orange like that.

That the explosion had been far too big to merely knock the aircraft out of the sky, but rather kill anyone aboard before the first scrap hit the ground, was also not lost on Qrow. Someone who knew _exactly_ what he was had been determined to remove him from the picture.

"Sorry, man," he said, voice low and a touch more gravelly than usual before he took one last swig from his flask, pouring the last few sips of Vacuan anejo out over the railing, the liquid dispersing into a cloud of fine droplets as it fell. "This ain't over, Forrest," he vowed quietly, turning to make his way to the airship docks on the other side of Haven Academy.

What he discovered there confirmed his suspicions entirely.

The bullhead had exploded precisely two minutes after takeoff, just enough time to ensure that any debris didn't land on anything or anyone important; less pressure to have a detailed investigation that way. The preliminary assumption was a cargo mishap, given the manifest listing fifty kilograms of burn dust and no passengers. Forrest Wilson wasn't above falsifying a cargo manifest, or even a flight plan, but he didn't have reason to this time. Had he been up to something less than savory, Qrow would've at least had an inkling, had the pilot not informed him explicitly what was going on.

And then there was the air dock itself.

Most everything seemed in order, but for a small shack that housed fire fighting equipment centered in the quad of landing pads Forrest had departed from. All the equipment was in place, a fine coating of dust showing off the otherwise exemplary safety record of the facility. What _was_ of concern were the handful of black pinfeathers scattered about the floor.

Qrow could dismiss that as mere coincidence, but knew damn well that his luck didn't run that way, which left him with two choices.

Either Raven had legitimately tried to kill him,_ and let's face it, it wouldn't be the first time_, Qrow thought darkly, or someone was trying to make him _think_ she had. Whether it was to force a potentially explosive confrontation between the Branwen twins or simply to trail him back to wherever she was camped was ultimately irrelevant.

Qrow needed to have words with his sister.

* * *

**July 7th**

The warm tropical sun lay low on the horizon, painting the clouds above in brilliant oranges and reds as a soft breeze blew in from the ocean in what passed for winter in Kuo Kuana. The wind pushed at a pair of black cat ears, which reflexively flicked in irritation. Blake Belladonna hadn't been this exposed in public in months and it showed.

She was filled with conflicting emotions, to be sure, several locations that she'd remembered from what little of her childhood she'd spent in Menagerie's capitol had been closed down and replaced with something else. It was unrealistic, certainly, to expect everything to stay the same, as almost six years had passed since she'd last visited, but still she was left with a feeling of melancholy for all that she'd missed. This certainly wasn't helping her current state of mind, and for not the first time since she'd left the docks, Blake briefly considered turning back and leaving Menagerie behind.

But for the influence of two of the blonds in her life, she probably would have done so without a second thought.

The first was her erstwhile suitor, Sun Wukong. Sun had been a relentless presence at her side ever since he'd run into her team in Vale, to the point where he'd even been able to convince her to spend the summer with him in Mistral. She'd never been there, even in her travels with the White Fang, and the promise of a place to crash for free had cemented the deal. What little she'd interacted with Mrs. Ayana certainly didn't hurt, as Sage's mother was quite pleasant towards her, even once she'd been inadvertently outed as a faunus by Sun's motormouth. Sage himself was also a fantastic cook, and as a consequence, she'd developed a burgeoning addiction to Mistrali seafood, specifically takoyaki and sushi.

Sun was a friend, first and foremost, and wasn't terribly pushy about the two of them being more than that, which Blake appreciated immensely. At the end of the day, she'd found someone she could count as a close friend and confidant, much like Yang, Ruby and even Weiss. Even _he_ could appreciate that friendship as a foundation for potentially something more in the future, no matter how slim the chance. There were times that Blake thought his near-terminal levels of optimism to be a congenital defect, even when it helped even out her own moods, but she could not fault him for it.

One thing that Sun had always been insistent on was calling home, for which he had reserved an hour every Sunday morning. These calls had been on Saturday evening while he'd been an exchange student at Beacon, time zones being what they were. That devotion to his family was something she admired about him, yet simultaneously felt ashamed for, given the relationship she'd had with her own parents over the past five years.

Running away would have been one thing, but staying with the White Fang despite their embrace of a philosophy that spit in the face of her father's legacy was quite another. Her anger drove a wedge between them, her pride had kept her away, and after she'd left the Fang, her guilt had erected a wall it had taken Sun months to breach. Even after all she'd seen the White Fang become, Blake was an obstinate teenager who couldn't admit that her parents were right.

Ghira and Kali Belladonna were no strangers to the struggle for faunus rights, even Blake's stubborn mind couldn't deny that, but what they'd done just...wasn't enough. Her youthful idealism and impatience had led her to Sienna Khan and thus to Adam Taurus, the fury of the young man's convictions an easy substitute for being told _no_ by her own parents.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

Simple, yet perceptive; that was Sun Wukong in a nutshell. He'd easily deduced the cause of Blake's sour mood on Father's Day, or rather, his persistent nature had forced Blake's anger to the surface from repeatedly poking the proverbial bear with the equally proverbial stick. Her outburst had nearly ended up with him getting choked unconscious with the ribbon on Gambol Shroud, but Sun wasn't one to hold a grudge. He understood her recalcitrance, as much as he could while still being personally outside the situation, and told Blake in no uncertain terms that her parents would love and accept her no matter what. Blake had never said an unkind word to him about them, and Sun wasn't one to chalk that up to coincidence. He'd insisted she reconnect with them, and through weeks of gentle persistence, Blake had agreed. Unlikely as it was, however, the tipping point hadn't been something Sun had said, but rather another of the boys in her life who had finally convinced Blake to return to Menagerie.

Jaune Arc wasn't what she would consider as anything more than a peripheral friend, despite his attachment to Ruby Rose. She'd barely spoken to him all school year, though that hardly made him unique among the sister Teams of RWBY and JNPR, or indeed any of their other classmates. He'd always seemed fairly harmless, mostly clueless (especially when it came to his romantic choices), but overall a good and decent person, especially when his thoughts on faunuskind had come up in conversation.

Something she'd never really thought of was her own mortality, at least not in any emotional sense. Sure, she'd faced death before, but the possibility had never felt quite real enough for her to contemplate. Teenage invincibility combined with the power of a skilled Huntress was a potent combination to avoid dwelling on the abyss. Now, however, she'd lost a friend. So many things that could have happened, could have been _said_, now never would. She'd never get to see if Ruby's oft-denied nascent crush on the blond dork would ever become something more, or if Pyrrha would finally summon the courage to confess her own feelings for her partner. Tragic romances really weren't Blake's cup of tea, after all.

Even as emotionally distant from the situation as she was, her heart ached in sympathy for the both of them. Ruby especially had had enough tragedy in her short life that this was simply unfair. Whatever powers that might be could certainly stand to take a breather in their all-out assault on the optimistic Ruby Rose.

And in that tragedy, Blake had found the courage to reconcile, lest the opportunity be denied to her family forevermore.

She climbed the steps to her father's house, teeth biting the inside of her lips to keep herself from breaking down entirely. Despite the fact that her parents undoubtedly had a room reserved for her, she couldn't think of the large manor as _home_, not even as an academic exercise. Closing her amber eyes, she took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the front door, the booming sound echoing softly through the thick wood. Silence reigned for several moments before the door creaked open, the setting sun giving Kali Belladonna's face a rosy glow as her smile disappeared into a gasp of surprise, her golden eyes going wide in disbelief.

"Hi, mom," she managed weakly before she was quickly engulfed in a hug, a mother welcoming her prodigal child home in a tale as old as time. Blake stood stock still for several moments before the shock wore off, and her arms encircled her mother's back, squeezing tightly to her.

"I'm so sorry," she managed through a sob, her voice muffled by her mother's shoulder.

A consummate mother, Kali shushed her little girl softly, gently rubbing the back of her neck, the one spot that she alone knew was a calming influence on Blake. "You hungry?" she asked with every iota of warmth she could muster, getting a whimper and slight nod in reply. "Come on in, then, dinner's almost ready," she continued, giving her daughter one more firm squeeze before backing away slightly, allowing Blake to truly come home for the first time in five years.

* * *

**August 12th**

The fact that Qrow hated being here was easily seen from how little of his characteristic roguish charm was visible on his stubbly face. It didn't help that the little pissant in front of him wasn't giving him the answers he'd spent the last month trying to track down.

"And I'm tellin' you, Raven ain't here. Kicked her out. Now the Branwen tribe answers to _me_, Shay D. Branwen," the slender punk answered, jabbing a thumb into his chest as the dozen or so hangers-on in the shabby campsite gave grunts of affirmation to the supposed brains of their organization.

Qrow looked at him for several seconds, his lightly-marinated brain trying to process what he'd been told. Bloodshot eyes with equally red irises blinked once before a soft _snrk_ escaped his sinuses. This was followed by a light chuckle, devolving quickly into raucous laughter that took Qrow several moments to realize wasn't being echoed by the dozen bandits surrounding him.

"Oh, wait. You're serious. Lemme laugh harder!" he added, his mirth rising in volume and force to the point where he was having trouble breathing. "Ahhhh, I needed that," he finally said after getting his second wind.

"All right, now you're just pissing me off. And that's something you don't want to do, ya hear me?" Shay retorted, growing obviously irritated.

"Okay, I tried to be nice about this, you little shit, so lemme make this clear. You tell me the truth, or in ten seconds, I'm gonna be the only one of us still standing. In a _minute_, I'm gonna be the only one in this _camp_ still standing. In _three_ minutes, I'm gonna be the only one in this camp still _conscious_," Qrow growled, several guns ending up with cocked hammers in response.

Two minutes and twelve seconds later, Harbinger noisily ratcheted back into its stowed form, Qrow holstering it behind his back before looking around to see if anyone was available for further interrogation. Finding no takers for a rematch game of twenty questions, he gave a soft sigh and set about searching the camp, or what was left of it.

The walls could use some work, despite being bigger than what was needed to protect the much-smaller-than-he-remembered tribe from the Grimm. Several tents were abandoned, going off of the drooping guy lines that allowed them to hang lower than would be comfortably habitable. The few times that he'd managed to sneak into camp over the years after Beacon, Qrow knew that Raven ran a tight ship, and _this_…

This was troubling.

A soft groan from the alleged leader of this shitshow could be heard, and Qrow walked back towards the scene of the brief melee. He yanked Shay off the ground by the front of his shirt, dragging him over to the embers of last night's watch fire and dangling him backwards over the coals as he struggled awake. Unsatisfied with the scrawny wretch's speed, Qrow elected to grab Shay's broken nose with his unoccupied hand and wrenched it sideways a full ninety degrees, getting a comically squeaky, burbling scream of pain from the man.

"Now, like I was sayin'," Qrow began, releasing the mangled snout before flicking it once to focus Shay's attention again. "Where's Raven?"

"Fhuh you."

"Wrong answer," Qrow growled, bending him backwards over the stone ring of the fire pit until wisps of smoke could be seen from a few tendrils of Shay's hair catching fire from the intense heat. "Try again."

Shay's eyes were wide in panic, an unspoken childhood fear of fire now foremost in his mind.

"She left! Almost two months ago! Never came back."

"Where?"

"I dunno, man," Shay whined, Qrow's hand reaching for his nose again prompting a screech of protest from him. "I _swear_, man, I don't fuckin' know! She's been paranoid for the last couple years, doesn't tell anyone but Vernal what the target is before she…"

"Who?!" Qrow nearly screamed in his face.

"Vernal! Her right hand!"

"Describe her."

"I dunno, maybe five-six, slim, blue eyes, brown hair in a dyke cut," he spat, clearly not a fan of her perceived sexuality, likely from getting shot down personally. "Gray jacket with the sleeves ripped off."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, she's got ink. A bird rising from some flowers on her left arm."

Qrow pondered the information for several moments, remembering the Spring Maiden had been a bit of a vain creature, long, blond tresses that needed even more care than his fussy niece's hair. That only left three possibilities in his mind.

There'd been a radical change in the girl's appearance and personality, which, given the better part of a decade under the care of his brutal sister, was a distinct possibility. This Vernal was just named that, either coincidentally, or as a decoy for the real Maiden, which didn't sound like a Raven Branwen play in the slightest. The third was the most chilling; that Vernal was actually a new Maiden, and Raven had followed Ozpin's standing orders regarding the Maidens for once, which made even _less_ sense.

Qrow focused his attention on Shay again, noticing that his shaking hand was slowly trying to reach for a fire poker, which lay against the circle of stones a couple inches from his grasp. With an annoyed sigh, he backhanded his prisoner across the face just hard enough to rattle his brain and get a squeaking grunt of pain from his ruined nose. "We ain't got time for that shit, punk. Now think hard, but not too hard. You're in enough pain already. Where haven't you hit in a while?" Qrow asked, knowing that his sister was anything but random in the planning of her raids. Shay thought for a couple seconds, trying to match up names in his head to what he remembered of the map of Anima.

"West. We've been raiding on the Mistrali frontier north and east of here for the last year and a half. Nothing south but more Grimm."

"How many did she take with her?"

"Thirty-five? Forty maybe?"

"There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked rhetorically. "It's like I've always said. You can get more with a kind word and a two by four than you can with just a kind word," Qrow concluded sagely, the soft, rakish smile back on his lips again. "Word of advice, punk. Get out of the bandit business; you suck at it." Without warning, he dropped Shay into the embers, the humiliated brigand screaming in pain as he tried to push off with his hands to extricate himself from the fire pit. The moment he stumbled free, a snap kick to the face silenced him again, and likely disincentivized Shay from seeking vengeance after the three hour nap Qrow had forced upon him.

Qrow had a bird to find.

* * *

**September 7th**

"I don't like this, Oz," Qrow said wearily, finishing his thought with a nip from his flask to wet his parched throat. Verbal reports could be such dry things, after all.

"I can't say I blame you, old friend," Ozpin agreed. "However, the search for your sister, and by extension the Spring Maiden, will have to wait. I have a more important task for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Amber requires a chaperone."

"She's awake?" Qrow asked in astonishment.

"Indeed. She is still healing, her mind at least, and I do not feel she is safe here at Beacon."

"What? Why!?"

"Leonardo's betrayal has far-reaching implications. He knew where she was, and was able to direct Cinder Fall here to complete her attack on Amber. I can only assume Salem knows everything that we do. That is why I need you for this. Your expertise in navigating the dark spaces between the kingdoms is a valuable asset, and one needed for this assignment."

"I don't know that I'm exactly the best man for the job, Oz. After what happened last time…" he trailed off.

"The only mistakes are ones we fail to learn from, Qrow," Ozpin reminded him sagely.

"You know what a shitty student I am."

"I still need you to do this. Take her somewhere safe, somewhere quiet where no one will ever find her. Contact me in four months to see if the danger has passed, otherwise, keep out of sight. We cannot afford to lose her again."

"You ain't kiddin'. An' I know just the place," he said with a nod.

"Good. There is a bullhead on standby at the main dock, ready to depart for Atlas. I need you and Amber to get on it."

"But you said…"

"And then utilize the escape hatch in the belly to drop into the crawlway it is parked on top of. I leave the rest to you," Ozpin continued, hardly unaccustomed to covert operations.

"I was beginnin' to wonder."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yeah. _Ruby_."

"I cannot ignore the power of her eyes manifesting as they did. Truthfully, I do not know you would be alive had they not. However, I will train her in their use in as private a fashion as I can manage. She is going to be a wonderful Huntress someday soon, eclipsing even her mother, I believe."

"And look where that got Summer," Qrow fired back bitterly.

"Beacon Academy will train her to the best of her abilities, as we do with every other Huntsman and Huntress who walks onto this campus. What she chooses to do with those abilities is her choice entirely."

"You know it ain't that simple, Oz."

"It never is. But that's life on Remnant. If I could wave my cane and end the war with Salem by wishing it so, I would do so without hesitation. She and every student at this academy have chosen to stand against the darkness that threatens to consume Remnant, and I am quite grateful for that fact. Raven's assertions to the contrary, I do _not_ manipulate the students under my care," Ozpin said coldly, emotion creeping into his voice for the first time since Qrow couldn't remember when.

"Look, Oz. You know I'm in your corner here. And I know you've got trust issues right now. But for fuck's sake, please just treat my nieces like anyone else here. Tai and I have been through enough already. Especially with Raven missing now."

"I know, Qrow. I promise that I will not needlessly involve them, though we both know how adept Ruby and Yang both are at finding trouble on their own."

"Tell me about it," Qrow grumbled.

* * *

"You need a hand, Amber?" Qrow asked, seeing the seeming unfamiliarity with the dust-embellished staff she was showcasing.

"I...no, I've got it," she answered softly, removing the weapon from the closet adjacent her hospital bed.

"Okay."

"How long have we actually known each other, Qrow?"

"Huh?"

"My memory isn't exactly reliable for the time before I was attacked, and I haven't been awake for almost all of the rest of it."

"Umm, well, I'd say around five years, give or take. We first met shortly after you'd inherited your powers. I had been sent by Ozpin to check up on you, in Clearwater. That's a quiet town just outside of Vale proper," he clarified to dispel the look of confusion on Amber's face.

"I remember a watermill?"

"Yeah, was kind of a safe house for you. Had you stashed upstairs, was damn near impossible to sleep with that thing running all the time. Needed to keep you out of sight while you grew into your abilities."

"There was a cat. I remember! An orange tabby."

"I hated that cat," he muttered irritably.

"She liked me just fine," Amber recalled with a playful tone. "You're just mad that she tried to eat you that one time."

"Four. _Four_ times," Qrow corrected her with a handful of extended fingers for emphasis, drawing the barest hint of a smile from her.

"Reminds me of a cat I had...or, _maybe_ had?" she continued, her good cheer dampened again by her unreliable memories.

"More brain fog?" Qrow asked, a chronic alcoholic more than sympathetic to someone with memory issues.

"No, this is different. Ever since I woke up, I've had flashes. Thoughts that felt real, but somehow I know they're not really mine. Does that make any sense?" she asked, pulling on her cloak.

"Not...really. I mean, I've been on some pretty good benders before, but I don't think it's quite the same thing."

"It's like I had this whole other life before this," she said softly. "What do you know about me?"

"Not much. What's Oz told you? I might be able to fill in the blanks."

"Only that I've been given some great gift, for some reason. He said I was chosen out of millions of girls, and that I was destined for greatness. That Cinder woman tried to steal that gift for herself, and now she's dead."

"Yeah, I was there."

"Is that where you got…" she trailed off, her warm amber eyes cutting to the patch over his.

"Yeah."

"Ozpin said you freed the rest of my soul."

"That's one way of puttin' it."

"Thank you."

"Wasn't exactly planned, but yeah."

"And then shortly after that happened, I woke up in the hospital here."

"Sounds about right," Qrow confirmed.

"What he's not telling me about is my life before all this. He hinted that I wasn't happy, but that doesn't feel right. At least not in some of my memories."

"What did he say, exactly?"

"That I...didn't want to walk down that path. That it would only bring tears," she said softly. "Sounded like he spoke from experience."

"Family can do that to you. I _definitely_ speak from experience on that one."

"Do I even have a family? Sometimes I think I do, but I can't figure out what's real anymore."

"Tell ya what. We're gonna be hiding out for a while, so maybe I can help you jog some of those memories loose?" Qrow asked dubiously. He wasn't a damned shrink, no matter what Oz thought.

"Okay." Amber smiled then, a glimmer of hope in her life once again. "After you, kind sir?" she said, gesturing to the open door beside her.

"Age before beauty, eh?" he replied, offering her a knowing smirk before he checked the corridor. Seeing no signs of an impending ambush, he stepped into the hallway, waiting for Amber to follow.

"So where are we going?" she asked.

"It's a surprise. Trust me, you're gonna love it," he replied, hoping that would allay her fears for the moment.

Neither of them took notice of the hospital security camera as they rounded the corner, a small red LED lit as it always was, indicating the device was powered and functioning properly.

* * *

**September 8th**

Marguerite Arc rolled her shoulders back, glancing at the clock to confirm that another fifty-five minutes remained on her shift, despite the lack of customers for her to tend to. Boredom aside, the view was fantastic at least. The Vale CCT tower was easily the tallest building in Beacon, and the highest point anywhere near the city proper. She had a bird's eye view of the bay and the city beyond to enjoy when someone wasn't asking her for help with the simplest of things, and regrettably that was fairly often. How many times could someone screw up their browser settings in one hour? Seven, if one particularly dense professor was to be believed.

Still, Margie was grateful to her sister-in-law for getting her this internship for the summer, and she was making the most of having access to cutting-edge technology and officemates who used and maintained it on a daily basis. She was also making the most of the ludicrously fast CCnet connection she was sitting on, a high capacity portable hard drive humming away at her feet as she downloaded more Mistrali animation than she knew what to do with. Getting the genuine article on physical media was pricey and damned inconvenient, but the magic of file sharing had her swimming in enough entertainment to last through her final year in college and beyond.

With the quick stroke of a hotkey, she switched from her CCT interface program back to her download client, checking her progress and speed with a mischievous smile. That smile evaporated when she saw that she was over forty percent short of where she'd estimated, with the average speed on her download ticking downwards by the second. While it was possible the issue was on the server end, that was an issue she could do nothing about, and so she returned to her work client, opening the tab that monitored traffic across the local portion of the network. Marguerite squinted for a moment, reading the numbers and graphs in front of her. "That can't be right," she mumbled softly, reaching for the landline handset next to her and dialing her immediate supervisor.

"Hey, Grey, can you come here and take a look at something for me?" she asked, puzzlement in her voice.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute."

The connection went dead, and Margie switched back to her download client, pausing everything before returning to the network traffic numbers with a frown. Working quickly, she navigated through the history graphs, opening snapshots of one week, one month and three month averages in separate tabs.

"Whatcha got, Margie?" Grey Simpson asked, adjusting his narrow reading glasses on his narrow nose.

"We've got a problem."

"Oh?"

"I've been fielding complaints for the last few weeks about network speed. I've never been able to isolate it until just now."

"Yeah, you're not the only one."

"Now if you look at these averages, we're showing peak traffic anywhere between fifty and fifty-five percent above our normal load."

"Okay?" Grey asked, not yet seeing Marguerite's point.

"Now, look at this last week, compared to the same week a year ago. Same consistent increase, right?"

"Atlas tech support says it's probably just a bug in the newest OS, should be fixed when they push the next update at the end of the month."

"Yeah, I got that email too, but look what happens when you break it down by network node," she said, expanding the two snapshots side by side. "Yeah, we've got a steady increase in the amount of bandwidth usage, but for it to be uniform?" she asked, highlighting the fact for Grey.

The numbers didn't lie, certainly, and for every node, every location and terminal, to have the same discrepancy added up to only one thing. Grey Simpson grabbed the landline, quickly dialing from memory.

"Network security, Mason," came a voice that sounded like someone gargling hot asphalt.

"Travis, this is Grey. I'm showing signs of a major malware issue across the entirety of the network, I need a risk assessment yesterday."

"Lemme take a look here," he replied, the furious clicking of a mechanical keyboard sounding more like crinkling plastic than individual taps. "Sonuva...yeah, this is bad. Damn it, I _told_ those idiots in Atlas that their countermeasures code needed to be patched. But _nooooooo_ I couldn't possibly know what I'm talking about, I'm just some Valerian end user, I never went to school in glorious Atlas," he ranted on, the sarcasm thicker than his gravelly voice. "Grey, we need to shut it down. Now," he added. "This is gonna take me and the crew at least a week to scrub manually. An' I don't give a shit what they say, I'm installing my own security protocols until they can show me they've got better."

"Mase, I don't know…"

"If I don't get this isolated and contained, we're talking about a potentially 'netwide problem. And that ain't happenin' on my watch."

Grey Simpson took a deep breath and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Do it. I'll inform the Headmaster and the Council personally."

"Already done."

* * *

**September 9th**

The gentle warmth of a sunrise, shimmering off the body of water that gave the town of Silverlake its name, filtered through the plain curtains of the modest inn, Lie Ren's lavender eyes slowly opening in minor annoyance. His dream had been so good, too. He then let his gaze drop from the window at the foot of his bed to the bed itself, finding an unkempt mop of orange hair still resting on his bare chest, and he decided that reality was better than any dream he could imagine right now. With a tender touch, he used a finger to clear the hair away from her face, and smiled at what he saw.

Ren truly did feel that a peacefully sleeping Nora Valkyrie was one of the cutest things on the face of Remnant, but it was a face of her rarely seen. Even exhausted, she tossed and turned, a relic of days gone by when they were trying to sleep while on the road in a gently rolling Tigan wagon. Granted, she'd never been exhausted in _quite_ such a fashion before, and Ren's smile grew more mischievous at that knowledge. She'd been magnificent, and his own performance certainly seemed to meet with Nora's approval as well. There was no going back for them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

Nora hummed softly, the fingers of her left hand digging into his ribcage like the claws of some slumbering beast. Ren's hand slowly caressed the bare skin between her shoulder blades, coaxing a soft giggle from his lover before her vibrant turquoise eyes flitted open, staring back up at him mischievously.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said through a smile.

"I was up first; I don't think you can call me that. And good morning to you as well, Nora," he replied with a smile.

Without another word, Nora crawled on top of him, her legs straddling him just above the hips before she settled down again, her bountiful bust squishing against his lithe chest without any awkwardness or hesitation. She pressed her lips against his, humming softly as she took her first kiss of the morning. Several seconds later, they broke free, foreheads pressed together as Nora tapped the tip of her nose against his.

"Boop," she said softly.

"Boop," he echoed warmly.

"You were wonderful," she added, a pink hue on her cheeks.

"As were you."

"I still can't believe it."

"Oh?"

"Our first time was even better than I imagined it could have been."

"First _three_ times," he corrected, not having to downplay Nora for once.

"You only got three?"

"What?"

"_Seeevennnnnn_!" Nora sang softly, trailing the fingers of her left hand along his jawline.

Ren chuckled softly at the memories they'd made together, basking in the now-distant afterglow of their union.

"I don't wanna leave this room," she said quietly.

"I agree, but we have a train to catch. School starts in four days, Nora."

He could see Nora's smile falter then, her breath leaving her as she seemed to deflate. His arms found their way around her, pulling her even closer to him and slightly down, Nora's head nuzzling under his chin as she rested against him.

"I don't wanna leave. I don't want it to be real. I don't want him to really be gone."

"I know, but there are people counting on us, Nora. Pyrrha is worse off than we are; at least we've got each other."

Her immediate response was to further burrow into him, her arms squeezing around her boyfriend for comfort like a giant stuffed animal. "Damn straight," she replied. "You're not going anywhere without me." Her lips found his neck, nibbling kisses falling upon his sensitized flesh in rapid succession.

"If we don't get out of bed soon, I'm not going to have time to make pancakes," Ren wished he didn't have to remind her.

"I'll make do," she said, breath hot and steamy against his skin.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Nora?" he deadpanned.

"Ohhhh, I think that's a matter," she began, leaning back to sit upon him fully, the coarse hair of her nethers scratching against his abdomen as her stunningly perfect breasts came into his field of view, the gentle sunlight making her pale skin glow with a golden hue. "Of what _you've_ done to _me_," Nora concluded, trailing a single finger down his sternum while clenching her supple backside around his now-erect length, eliciting a soft hiss of pleasure from Ren. "We've got some time, _aaaaand_…"

"_And_, we're out of condoms," he said with more than a hint of regret.

"Well, shit," Nora said dejectedly, before her eyes went wide a few moments later, heralding the arrival of a mischievous grin. Before Ren could ask a question he wasn't exactly sure he wanted an answer to, Nora slid down his torso and under the covers, humming pleasurably as her sex ground briefly along his own.

"I've been wanting to do this with you for awhile, now," Nora said in a sultry voice. "Besides I owe you, like, _four_," she added.

"What are you talking aboooooohhhhhhh!" he began, before being interrupted by the wet heat of her tongue against his flesh. "Oh. _That_," Ren said, his voice nearly a purr as his hand gently ran through Nora's ginger locks.

"Mmhmmm," was the only reply her now stuffed and eagerly working mouth was capable of.

"Mmm, Nora, I... teeth. _Teeth_!" he hissed out.

"Shorry."

* * *

The last heatwave of summer was in full effect on the island of Patch, almost too hot to keep the sister act of Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long off the beach.

_Almost_.

"I don't see how you can wear that thing, Yang. I mean, not just your..._hanging out_," Ruby said with a shudder at the end. She wasn't jealous of her sister's endowments. Not at all. Whoever said that she was _clearly_ didn't have a grasp on reality, kind of like how Yang's body didn't seem to have a grasp on simple physics. Four straight years of drinking milk should have done _something_ by now, right?

_Totally_ not jealous.

"When you're as blessed as I am, it's a crime not to flaunt what you've got every once in a while." Yang replied, jiggling her bust a little for emphasis, loving the attention she got while wearing the nearly microscopic excuse for a yellow bikini. She giggled softly as yet another wide-eyed teenaged boy tripped over an uneven plank in the wooden boardwalk that ran along the Port Arcadia beachfront.

"But seriously, how do you even walk with that string in your butt? _Doesn't it feel weird_?" She whisper-hissed, her own idea of 'mature' swimwear largely consisting of trading out her Grimm-print suit for something with roses (naturally). Maybe even a little bit of a higher cut over the hips? Nothing _too_ racy, mind you.

"It's a learned skill. I mean, I don't have an ass like Blake, but I'm no slouch in that department either." She humbly bragged.

"I'm not going to ask how you know that, Yang." Ruby shuddered again.

"Oh, come on, Rubes. Kind of hard to share a shower with a room full of girls and not take a quick peek at…" She playfully teased with a knowing grin.

"I'M NOT LISTENING, LALALALALALALA!" Ruby shouted, plugging her ears with her index fingers and squinting her eyes shut, keeping this posture as they walked until she stubbed her toe on a bench. "Ow! Owowowow!" She barked, hopping on one foot for several seconds before her aura repaired the miniscule damage.

Yang couldn't help but smile at her sister's antics. The current display was almost as funny as when she'd convinced her to try a strawberry daiquiri at the one party she'd dragged Ruby to over the course of the summer. Granted, that particular party had ended with two broken arms when a couple of boys had tried to take advantage of Ruby's innocence and slight inebriation, but the twenty minutes prior to that was pure comedy _gold_.

Yang also hoped that Ruby hadn't lost the spark that made her such an adorable little cinnamon roll after the events of the last five months, the party in question being the least of her problems. She'd lost the most out of their group of friends, and no matter how much of a brave front she put up, Yang knew that Ruby was still in a lot of pain.

While Team CFVY was certainly considered among their mutual friends, they hadn't been exactly close. The same could not be said, however, of Ruby's relationship with the quirky and somehow even-more-awkward-than-her Penny Polendina. The Battle of Beacon had reminded them both of the dangers of their chosen profession, and that not every evil in the world could be blamed on the Grimm. While Yang had been confined to the hospital recovering from the multiple broken bones in her hand, she had seen Ruby cry herself to sleep almost every night. There were still times she blamed herself for not being fast enough to save Penny, despite the obviously overwhelming power that Cinder had displayed in dismantling the apparently cybernetic girl.

Still, Ruby had at least done enough to save their uncle Qrow, and he'd ended the threat once and for all, even if he'd ended up a drunken cyclops as part of the bargain. _That_ was the event that had truly shaken Yang; her kick-ass uncle nearly dying was definitely a wake-up call. Qrow Branwen was an even more invincible figure in her personal pantheon than their own father.

And then there was Jaune.

Ruby's best friend, her protestations as to that title belonging to Weiss aside, was gone. It wasn't even some freak accident or secretive terrorist plot that no one could see coming. Those at least offered a small amount of comfort; that being the generally random unfairness of the universe at work. Jaune had died doing what they all aspired to, what they were all training for, and, if she was being brutally honest, what would probably claim the majority of their lives.

There was a reason there weren't many retirement homes catering to Huntsmen.

Yang shook her head to banish the feeling of melancholy threatening to overtake her, looking back to her sister, who was examining a shirt hanging in front of one of the stores dotting the boardwalk. It was a simple off-white in color, with loose, billowing sleeves to fight the summer heat. What piqued Yang's interest was the not-insignificant opening over the décolletage, a narrow diamond that stretched across the entire front of the shirt, covering from the bottom of the tall Mandarin collar to where the top edge of Ruby's corset would cover it.

"I thought you didn't like showing off, Rubes."

"I'm just looking for something that isn't all black. A little more breathable too. Might have to swing by on our way out, see if it goes with my combat skirt."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see everyone else at Beacon next week. I bet Weiss has an entirely new wardrobe."

"But we won't _see_ everyone else," Ruby replied softly.

"Shit," Yang swore under her breath at both her sister's mood change, and that she had contributed to it, no matter how unintentionally. "Ruby, I'm sorry."

"No. It isn't your fault, Yang."

"I know. But it still sucks," she said softly, gingerly placing her hand on Ruby's bare shoulder. "He deserved better."

"I wake up every day and I have to remind myself that he's actually gone. Even then, there are times… I bought the new issue of X-Ray and Vav yesterday, and I couldn't stop myself before I thought about discussing it with Jaune. He was a good friend," she finished softly, barely noticing that Yang had drawn her into a hug in spite of the side of her face getting mashed into Yang's slightly sweaty and nearly bare cleavage.

"Yeah. Yeah, he was." She reassured her little sister gently, stroking her hair much as she had done in the wake of Summer's disappearance. Yang had grown up far too fast in those months afterwards, and without the benefit of actual experience to guide her actions. Still, comforting Ruby was the one thing she had gotten perfect from day one. "I think… all we can do now is just keep moving forward. Be the huntresses that he would be proud to call his friends," she added, swallowing hard to keep control of her own tears. She wasn't any good at this inspirational crap.

"I just… I feel so bad for their team. I can't imagine losing one of you guys."

"Even Weiss?" Yang asked with a soft smirk.

"I'd rather have her call me a dolt a thousand times a day than never hear her voice again," Ruby said with a chuckle.

"And here I thought you didn't have a crush on anyone."

"And now you've ruined it."

"You know you love me."

"Even if I sometimes forget why. Yes."

Ruby then extricated herself from her mammary prison, giving a soft 'ew' as she wiped the relative humidity from her face. Her eyes caught the shirt again and she plucked it from the display rack, shuffling it down over her shoulders and slipping her arms through the sleeves before closing the collar around her neck. "What do you think?" she asked, her face seemingly undecided.

"I mean, it's nice. A little loose in the bicep there, but you can slip a garter over that or something."

"I've got those old belts from my Signal uniforms," Ruby suggested hopefully.

"That could work, yeah," Yang said absently, at least glad to have her sister back in a good mood. "I've got those leftover leather bracers you can use, too."

"Ooh, nice! I'll be right back," she said, trotting off towards the register with her scroll in hand.

Yang watched her check out with a soft smile, glad that Ruby had gotten more resilient as she'd grown up. _Damn it, you're not _allowed _to grow up_, she mused as a smiling Ruby rejoined her.

"So now what, Yang? Dad isn't home for a couple more days, right?" she asked, not out of nefarious or mischievous desires, but rather being able to avoid her chores for a bit longer than she already had.

"Yeah, he's supposed to get back from that conference at Beacon on Saturday. And no, no parties, Rubes," Yang reassured her.

"Not even a pajama movie party with cookies and milkshakes?" she asked hopefully.

"Mmmmmmaybe? Tell ya what. I'm gonna go get changed, and you can go pick up whatever cookies you want for tonight at the bakery, how's that sound?" Yang asked, turning to wink at another gawker, causing the unfortunate boy to walk knee-first into a trash can before crashing to the ground. The only response she got was a high-pitched gasp before Ruby's Semblance kicked into overdrive, leaving a trail of rose petals behind her as a red blur completely overshot the intersection that would take her to their favorite bakery. Yang wore a wan smile as she shook her head, a soft puff of breath sufficing to convey the mirth she felt as she picked up Ruby's shopping bag and stalked after her sister.

* * *

Arthur Watts afforded himself a soft sigh of resignation, slinging the messenger bag full of hard drives over his shoulder before walking to his closet. Leaning forward and twisting the knob on the closet door with the tips of his thumb and forefinger, he gave a gentle tug and took a step back as the door slowly swung open. The Seer stood there, well, _floated_ there, its manner of levitation of great interest to the disgraced scientist chiefly because he wasn't allowed to experiment on the damned thing.

"Hello?" Arthur said, waving at the Seer Grimm. It felt awkward, as he'd never been the one to initiate communication with Salem in this manner. He did an admirable job of not shrieking in panic when a lone tentacle whipped out and easily ensnared his wrist, pulling him slowly forward. After several moments, the billowing cloud of...whatever...dissipated, revealing his Queen in all her pale glory.

"You have news, Arthur?" She asked placidly, observing decorum if nothing else, her even temper filtering through the connection and relaxing the Seer enough to release Watts' hand.

"Yes, Your Grace. My connection to Beacon has been severed at the source. I have all the downloaded files on my person, and I will be joining you at Evernight at the earliest opportunity," he said in his typically smooth diction.

"That is unfortunate, but unavoidable as you stated. However, I wish for you to journey to Vale. The task I set before Hazel and Tyrian needs to expand its scope. You are to persuade Adam Taurus that the elimination of certain of Ozpin's assets is in our mutual interests. You have more than enough information to make such a job trivial, do you not?" Salem asked, her voice having an edge he was more than familiar with.

"Of course, my Queen. Consider it done," he said with a smile he didn't truly feel. Dealing with Taurus had been Cinder's task, and if he knew the woman half as well as he thought he did, that relationship had been contentious at best.

"You're covering your tracks?" Salem asked, again a formality if she knew her minion as well as she thought she did.

"Burn dust charges are already ticking, and will reduce this little tinderbox to ash in ten minutes or so. By the time they trace my steps from Beacon to Mistral, this vacant lot will probably be under construction again."

"Good."

"Your Grace, if I may? I'm not sure I feel entirely safe in Vale, especially when dealing with the White Fang." He said as cautiously as possible. Arthur Watts was a scientist, not some thrice-damned, knuckle-dragging huntsman.

"I shall consider your request, Arthur," Salem replied, with a tone that thoroughly conveyed that she wouldn't. "Is there anything else?" she asked, now sounding almost bored.

"Yes, actually." He responded with a knowing smile, withdrawing his scroll from the inner pocket of his jacket, opening a picture gleaned from the Beacon hospital security system before displaying it close enough to the Grimm that every detail was visible. "Autumn is in the wind."

"Excellent." Salem replied, her predatory smile readable even through the distortion of the Seer Grimm.

* * *

**End Act 1**

**End of Act Musical Selection:**

**Muse - Butterflies and Hurricanes**

**A/N the second:** Okay, first things first, gonna be doing this every few chapters, that is, splicing in all the previous chapters' author's notes into one tidy package, along with a few other ramblings here and there.

Before I begin, a small note to those of you who've been following along, I'll be going back and giving one more coat of polish to the previous chapters to clear up a few grammatical errors that have been pointed out to me in Discord, as well as a couple word choices that in retrospect could have been better (yes, I reread my own material). I've also added dates to the scenes in all three parts of Moments of Transition, to aid in understanding how the time flow worked out.

**On the subject of reviews:** Please keep them coming, fellow sentients! Seriously, they're great motivation, and validate the work I put in to tell the story I want to, and (hopefully) keep you all entertained. If a logged in user posts a review with a question, or a point they're not clear on, I do try to make a habit of answering you all as soon as I can manage. For those who review anonymously, I'm not going to turn my review page into a back and forth, especially when the questions being asked are literally answered in the chapter they reviewed.

**On the subject of Beacon's schedule:** It's been pointed out to me that, apparently, Beacon's school year runs from spring to winter (Specifically, Ruby telling Winter Schnee it's fall when they meet during the Tournament arc). Given that:

-That makes zero logical sense to me, has no canon explanation, and is never mentioned in canon again,

-Is contraindicated by the visuals of Beacon's trees during the tournament (Vale is very close to latitude with Patch (Ruby can see Patch from the airship in the first episode), which itself gets snow, meaning there should have been some leaves turning),

-I don't feel like rewriting parts of chapter 1,

-And another in-story reason I won't spoil,

I've chosen to ignore that isolated line (that even occurs after this work's divergence from canon anyway), and go with a traditional fall to spring school year, with a four month summer break (mid-May to mid-September).

**On the subject of Renard Arc:** Yes, he's not best dad, nor is he perfect. He's just seen more than his fair share of shit, and didn't cope as well as he might have, as he didn't have the support structure around him that most of us do. He legitimately didn't want his son following in his footsteps, because unlike, say, football or music, if you fail at the dream of being a Huntsman, there's a very real chance you end up _dead_. When you've lost that many people who are that close to you, it does things to you. Hell, just look at how Jaune took Pyrrha's death in canon for a reference point, and then multiply that five times over. A plot point I had envisioned that didn't get addressed (and might not, I'm not entirely sure how the rest of the Arc family's presence is going to play out beyond this chapter) is the reason that Renard even allowed himself the _possibility_ of a family with Rose. Not being a huntress, while trying during their times apart, meant that he never had to lose her in the manner he'd lost so many others (including his teammate and at-the-time fiancée).

Arc traditions (and they are _myriad_) aren't just something he made up, but they are instead woven into the tapestry of the family's heritage. While The Question™ gave him a justification that he was glad to take to keep Jaune from the path of a Huntsman, he didn't do the same to Olivia. Honor demanded that an appropriate response from Olivia be respected, and that he do everything to support her that he can, despite his personal wishes against her chosen career.

Also, Jaune was something of a slacker as a youth, and didn't have the motivation of the friends he now has to push him to be better. His high school years are something I will be touching on in later chapters, so I'm not going to be doing so here and now.

**On the subject of the Tiganii:** As I stated in the review section at one point, I substituted Romanian for their language instead of Romani because (chiefly) I didn't know any better at the time (thanks to Makurayami for educating me), and the dearth of Romani language resources online. Fun fact: Casian is named for a Romanian-born coworker!

**On the subject of the last three chapters:** I'm trying to establish a lot of the wheres and whys of a lot of people's changes in perspectives, locations etc. This is to cover a three month timeskip between Jaune sightings (no, he's not actually dead), as well as cut some of the backloaded exposition from later chapters. If you haven't noticed already, I do tend towards this, especially for things I'm trying to tease out and reveal slowly. I'm a huge fan of movies like The Usual Suspects and The Sixth Sense, where you get so much more from a second pass through the material.

**On the subject of "unnecessary" drama:** I'm not going to be dragging that plotline out for months, no. There are a couple reasons for it existing in the first place, one of which was the laughs of the initial misinterpretation. The rest...you'll see.

**On the subject of pacing:** The story points covered in chapters 7-9 were originally slated for chapter three in my original outline, LOL. This story keeps growing, but I think I've managed to keep the pacing even enough that it's not a problem. The true meat, and mystery, of this whole tale starts with the next chapter, and I can't wait to really get going with it.

**On the subject of OCs and headcanons:** Several theories I've had bubbling away in my head for months will be getting incorporated into Summer School, the first being Adrian's parentage. OCs will not be taking over the story, but are used as tools to advance the main plot. That being said, I might be writing a side piece or two to this one to further explore these characters.

**On the subject of pop culture references:** Mine tend to be subtle, so you're not going to see Caboose as an Atlesian soldier or anything overt like that. They are there, however, and from widely varying sources. The last two chapters have obliquely referenced Futurama, Babylon 5 and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, for example. Like I said, _diverse_.


	10. Falling

****Chapter 10****

****Falling****

_Well, this is familiar._

The wind in his scraggly blond hair, Jaune Arc was in freefall at the beginning of a school year once again. This time, however, it wasn't from nearly the same height, as his Sensei had thoughtfully just shoved him into empty space a mere three stories above the forest canopy.

_Landing strategy practice my pasty ass_.

With a grunt, he tried to reorient himself, almost succeeding in getting his shield deployed before he hit the uppermost branches of a maple tree. It snapped readily on impact, only to be followed by ever thicker limbs as he continued his descent. These were absorbing most of the kinetic energy he'd built up before the lowest of the branches halted his fall entirely when it slammed into his gut. The impact drove the wind from his lungs, and he was paralyzed for the few seconds it took his almost-perfect balance to tilt him backward, allowing him to plummet the last ten feet to the forest floor, landing unceremoniously on his ass.

"Nice form, Yak Boy!" he heard faintly from above, the same taunting voice that had haunted him for the last three months, pushing him to do better by stimulating his drive through anger. That, or taking joy in Jaune's misery, take your pick.

_Fuck you too, Sensei_, he wisely kept to himself, thankful that the small hole he'd made in the verdant forest canopy above couldn't betray the sarcastic sneer on his face.

His final test for the summer was a simple one; find his way back to Beacon in the four days before the school year began. On foot. With no clue where he was. His scroll long since dead with no charger. Sensei had said it would be easy.

Somehow, he doubted it.

Sighing heavily, Jaune took inventory of himself and his belongings, digging the twigs and leaves from his more-unkempt-than-usual hair, and the wood and bark fragments from between the plates of his cuirass. Clambering to his feet, he shucked his backpack, checking the contents for damage. Thankfully, most of it was just clothing, which he had wrapped around the wooden box Casian had given him three months prior; the only truly breakable item he carried. Unfortunately, the impact with the ground had burst both of the filled waterskins he'd brought with him from the makeshift dojo where he'd spent those three months. As such, what remained of his clean underwear and socks were now drenched, and he had no way of carrying water to survive in the late summer heat.

_Seems like Vale weather, at least._

With a weary stretch, Jaune adjusted his sword and scabbard, knowing full well he could easily have been dropped into a Grimm nest, just to 'toughen him up' some more. The last three months had been Hell on Remnant, but even he could not stubbornly ignore the fact that he'd progressed substantially under Sensei's tutelage. That he hadn't had to spend countless hours researching obscure Grimm for Professor Port's class, rest his soul, or even _more _obscure historical records for Prof..._Doctor _Oobleck's, had certainly allowed a lot more time for combat training. And physical training. Beatings, humiliation, disappointment; all the flavors of hard work and pain rolled into a neat, tidy package.

Casting his gaze about, Jaune picked a course that seemed to work, meandering slightly downhill through the forest and crossing into a large clearing. He passed a few old stumps along the way, but nothing that appeared to be freshly cut, so the prospect of a logging trail wasn't looking good. Crossing the clearing, he found further evidence of civilization in cartridge casings scattered about, largely obscured by the grass. These had also fallen victim to the local weather, a deep patina discoloring both brass and steel. _Must be someone's private shooting range out here_, he thought, never the gun nut that Ruby was. She would likely be able to tell him exactly what gun they'd come from, down to barrel length, muzzle velocity, and accessories.

Trudging through the dry grass, Jaune was left to his thoughts, the gentle rustling noise of his passage beginning to lull him into a trance. This was going to be tough, but he felt more ready than he had ever been. Even after all his sparring with Pyrrha, and the additional work he had begun to do with her training videos, Jaune knew that he was no closer than he'd ever been to equaling his classmates' skill. The past three months, however, had been enlightening to say the least. Jaune felt more than ever like he belonged at Beacon, and he was going to damn well prove it to everyone else. Granted, that just meant his partner would get that much harder on him, but in the end, that was a good thing, right?

This line of thought got him wondering how everyone had been over the summer, and who, if anyone, had missed him. Sure, he hadn't spoken to anyone beside his Sensei in months, but that shouldn't be cause for concern. He'd sent letters, after all. At least if he found a town, he could recharge his long-dead scroll and make a call or two. That was almost as important as figuring out where the hell he was, and how he was going to get back to Beacon in time.

Thankfully, the other side of the clearing seemed to have a path beaten through the trees, with footsign that didn't seem particularly ancient. With a spring in his step, even given the sorry condition of his footwear, Jaune picked up the pace, following the trail back to its source. The leather bindings of his armor creaked softly as he moved, now quite well-worn with the amount of time he'd spent wearing the Tigan-crafted cuirass.

He'd walked a mile or two already, with no end in sight, when he stopped, cocking his head to the side to listen to see if what he'd heard would repeat itself. Blue eyes narrowed before Jaune became a blur of motion, his sword leaving its scabbard with a clear, ringing call, his entire body pivoting to his right as the blade plowed through what turned out to be a young Beowolf, cleaving the Grimm at the waist before it even realized it had been detected. A shift and a turn later, a rising stroke from Jaune's blade lopped off another inky black arm before a quick flick of his sword arm dropped the blade back down, beheading the amputee, another Beowolf crumbling to ash before it hit the ground.

The third packmate's claws raked across his scarred, now-deployed shield as Jaune drove the point of his heirloom weapon through the open, snarling mouth of the fourth. The improved blade drove straight through the Beowolf's brainpan before he yanked it free with all the ease that Casian Râuri had promised. The third Beowolf's jaws snapped shut on air as his shield delivered a punishing uppercut, a pair of deft sword strokes lopping off its leg mid-femur followed by both grasping arms at the elbows. A sidestep allowed another wide, horizontal swing, this one driving into a snarling maw and through the hinge point of number five's mandible, horizontally bisecting its skull. Two steps brought him back to the nearly limbless number four, a looping cut decapitating it as Jaune cast a cold gaze around to check his surroundings once again.

Flakes of black ash danced in the breeze, the only evidence remaining of the brief battle among the maples. Jaune took a deep breath to steady his nerves, the outcome of the skirmish something he never could have foreseen a year ago. Sure, the Beowolves had been the smallest he'd ever seen, but he'd blown through them like a thresher in a wheat field.

_Don't get cocky, Yak Boy_.

He growled softly at the prospect of Sensei's voice being a permanent fixture in his head, but he had bigger fish to fry at the moment. The playful tones of birdsong could be heard again as adrenaline slowly gave up its grip on his senses, and Jaune relaxed, compacting his shield and transferring the scabbard to the baldric on his left hip. After another visual sweep of the area confirmed that he was again alone, he sheathed his blade and resumed his trek through the woods.

Another hour later, his meandering thoughts were broken again by a distant, almost imperceptible sound. _Guess I'm heading to the seashore_, he mused, finally recognizing the plaintive call of gulls on the breeze. The rest of the morning was spent in a long trek through the woods, the trees thinning at last to reveal a sizeable town nestled into a small bay. The haze of summer prevented any real details being discernible from both the town and what boats were on the water, but civilization was a decidedly welcome sight.

The only wall surrounding the town was hewn stone nearly fifteen feet high, but not overly thick. The Grimm threat in these parts must have been either minimal or kept in check by a robust Huntsman presence. The pair of guards at the gate of the town of Neverheardofit had an air of quiet confidence, or maybe indifference, as nothing seemed to faze them in regards to Jaune's lack of readily available identification.

"Sorry, scroll's been dead for a couple months now."

"Wouldn't do you any good anyway, CCT's down," replied the older of the two guards, a slightly rotund gentleman with a light dust carbine slung over his back. "Nobody's been able to get anything but local comms since yesterday."

"Oh. Well, I'm just looking for passage to Vale. Classes start Monday."

"Beacon?" the much younger guard asked, bearing a striking resemblance to his partner, even in the somewhat casual uniform they both wore.

"Yeah," Jaune said succinctly, taking a moment to let the feeling soak in. Someone had correctly assumed him to be a Huntsman without him having to spell it out.

It felt _good_.

"I hope I can do well enough this year to get accepted. Still got a year left at Signal," the boy added, his hands resting on the pommels of the pair of machetes on his waist.

"Summer job?" Jaune asked, putting the pieces together.

"Figured I'd keep my son out of trouble for a few months, and maybe a little practice against the odd Grimm," the elder guard said, warmth in his voice and posture as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Jaune smiled a bit at that, not letting his own experiences with his father taint the moment for the two of them. "Well, I hope you make it then. See you next year?" he added optimistically. Hell, if _he _could get into Beacon, then _anyone _could.

"Robin Cartwright," the lad said firmly, offering a gloved hand, which in turn was grasped in Jaune's gauntlet.

"Jaune Arc."

"I _knew _I recognized you!" Robin shouted through an ecstatic grin.

"Beg pardon?"

"Oh my gosh, you guys were _awesome _in the tournament!" he clarified.

"Oh. Well, it was a team effort, really. At first, at least," he added, his emotions still fumbling through the new experiences of recognition and admiration.

"Still, the way you totally confused Team BRNZ with a fake huddle in the middle of the match! They never saw it coming!" Robin gushed, not noticing the awkward blush creeping onto Jaune's face.

"Yeah, glad I thought of it," he muttered, scratching the back of his decidedly messy hair. One of the first things he needed to find was a barber. "Not to be rude, but I really need to find transportation to Vale. School starts in four days, and I don't wanna be late."

"You really are in a hurry, aren't you?" Robin's father asked rhetorically. "In case you forgot, the ferry dock is right next to the airport, straight down this street, then hang a right on Sapphire, off the main plaza," he helpfully added.

"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright."

"You just stay out of trouble in town and we'll call it even."

"Yessir," Jaune replied readily, trudging off down the cobblestone street.

He'd barely made it two blocks before the aroma of food threatened to derail him from his goal, but he had to marshall what Lien he had left until he had his ticket to Vale in hand. Still, the smell of fresh baguettes being added to the display window of a bakery had his stomach rivaling the growl of an Ursa. The town was quietly bustling, the people going about their daily lives without a care in the world, and Jaune couldn't help but smile at the little slice of life on display. Marking the bakery's location on his mental map, as well as the barber shop a block off the town square, he postponed indulging in crusty goodness for a little while longer.

_Well, looks like I'm definitely close to Vale_, he thought, cobalt blue eyes rising to meet a white marble facsimile of their ancestor. The various statues of Aurelius Arc were too numerous for Jaune to remember them all, and this was no exception. It was almost odd that the General had received more recognition than the Last King of Vale, but perhaps history had decided, for once, to recognize the men swinging the swords rather than the crowns dictating their strokes.

His great-great-grandfather stood resolute in the center of the square, resplendent in full plate armor, right hand pointing to something in the distance while his left rested on the pommel of Crocea Mors. For not the first time, Jaune wondered how his venerable ancestor would view what he'd done with the heirloom blade, but he banished the dark thoughts of familial disappointment almost immediately with an ease born of experience. Crocea Mors had been a weapon built for war, and it had served the right hand of the Last King of Vale with distinction before his death on the island of Vytal. What it _wasn't _was a weapon purpose built for taking on the Creatures of Grimm.

Bidding the statue adieu, Jaune found his cross street and began walking towards the ocean. The scent of the sea now filled his nostrils, and he allowed himself a wan smile at the memories of his visit to Argus. The large port on the northern edge of Mistrali territory was almost a sister city to Orleans if you swapped the ocean for the Gaul River, and Jaune understood why Saphron had settled there. Except for the snow, because, seriously, _fuck _snow. _Maybe that bakery has tartes tatin, too,_he mused, one degree of separation removed from drooling outright. The fact that he'd subsisted largely on rice and beans for the summer, with the occasional piece of small game, was clearly affecting his thought processes.

He shook his head to recenter his thoughts, spotting the ferry dock a few blocks away once his vision cleared. The water of the bay beyond was a deep, opaque blue, definitely not some tropical destination, further cementing his theory in regards to where Sensei had dumped him. This also meant that Jaune had been told the truth, but as with all things, Sensei's version of the truth wasn't always as clear cut as one might like. Ducking out of the way of a young couple clearly more invested in looking into each others' eyes than where they were going, Jaune passed between the traffic bollards preventing the few cars he'd seen from inadvertently ending up in the bay. The head of the quay held a small shack that he supposed passed for an office, a short queue of people waiting in front of a ticket window.

Looking to his right, he could see a pair of small landing pads, one of which held an idling Bullhead. Booking passage there would almost certainly be more expensive, but might be the only way he could get back to Beacon in time to make classes on Monday morning. Still, he needed to find out how long the boat ride would be before committing to spending that kind of money, as he desperately needed to replenish his wardrobe from being in the wilds for the past three months. There was other shopping he needed to get done as well, but the pair of jeans he had on was barely wearable in public, let alone comfortable, with the numerous spots of wear and actual _holes _in them.

Looking back to the left of the pier, Jaune got the barest glimpse of the summer beach crowd before he caught a flying tackle to the midsection. He'd been caught unprepared, and thus was incapable of stopping himself from falling, but he could still try to turn the situation to his advantage. With a grunt of effort, he managed to spin, grabbing a pair of wrists in his gold-trimmed white gauntlets as he did so. Jaune landed on top of his assailant and inside their guard, legs wrapped around his lower back as he pinned them to the ground. For the briefest moment, he wondered who would be stupid enough to attack him in broad daylight, until he managed to identify his attacker.

It was, apparently, a silver-eyed tomato.

"Ruby!?"

She blinked twice before answering. "Hi," she squeaked, the mother of all nervous grins plastered on her shocked face. Her eyes were frantically wide, but still staring directly into his own as a shower of rose petals slowly rained down upon them.

"But how?!"

"Ummm…" she trailed off, her gaze cutting down her body to where he was wedged against her pelvis, his larger frame forcing her legs apart in a decidedly unladylike pose. The fact that she was clad in a skintight bathing suit that left absolutely _nothing _to the imagination wasn't helping matters either, and Jaune's face soon was trying to play catchup with hers with the deepening shade of crimson blooming across his cheeks.

"Sorry!" he blurted, desperately trying to push up and off of Ruby's supine form. The awkward moment was having none of it, and he fumbled for what seemed like hours trying to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs that was the pair of socially awkward dorks. Ruby herself seemed paralyzed somehow, the iron grip of her legs around his hips not relinquishing itself despite her desperate desire to let go.

After several moments, and not a small amount of stares and a few chuckles from passers-by, Jaune finally regained his footing, grasping Ruby's wrist and pulling her to her feet as well. "Better?" he asked, watching as she dusted herself off, adjusting the back of her swimsuit so that it wasn't riding up into her butt.

"Yeah," she muttered, looking herself over before she stopped abruptly. "Jaune!" she shouted suddenly, jumping onto him again in a tackle hug that thankfully didn't have a semblance-boosted running start this time. Her frame tensed for a moment, then went slack, as she felt his arms wrap her up as well.

"It's good to see you too, Ruby. I'd ask if you missed me, but I think I already know the answer," he said with a chuckle. His mirth died when he felt her sob in his arms, her slender frame quaking as she clung fiercely to him. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a paragon of concern.

"I...we thought…" she began, unable to find or form the words before her blush returned at a third voice joining the conversation.

"Wow, I never figured you for a little homewrecker, Rubes," came in a playfully sarcastic tone.

Before Jaune could question Yang about her word choice, his eyes took in the near nudity of the blonde bombshell. A pair of what could be generously called _eyepatches _were doing their valiant best to protect what little modesty was mandatory for Yang's bust, while the tiniest micro-bikini bottom he'd ever even _dreamed _of graced her hips, neither showing tan lines anywhere on her skin. The long-debated-among-the-cruder-Beacon-students question of whether the carpet matched the drapes had apparently been rendered moot by the homeowner deciding to install hardwood floors instead.

"Hey, Yang," Jaune said casually, relaxing his grip on her little sister. "How have you two been?"

"What?!" both girls shot back, Ruby pushing against his breastplate to stare him in the face. He returned her gaze with trepidation, even _his _social ineptitude able to read the mood easily. Ruby looked mortified that he'd even asked the question, while Yang Xiao Long's eyes had flickered to a dangerous shade of red.

"Where the fuck have you been!?" Yang demanded angrily, her playful smile gone like smoke on the wind.

"Huh?"

"We thought you were dead!" Ruby shouted, punching him in the chest in frustration. "Ow," she muttered, shaking feeling back into her hand.

"Wait, _what_?" Jaune replied, his face a mask of bewilderment. "I didn't have scroll signal out in the wilds, but I left a note behind in Shion before I left! Even if nobody found that, I sent three letters home last month! Didn't you think to contact my family?" he asked, still flabbergasted that this was happening. When he was met with a pregnant pause, his eyelids drooped in disappointed annoyance. He was about to offer a flat '_really?'_at his friends' density when Ruby spoke up, her index fingers tapping nervously together.

"They held the funeral Tuesday," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Family only."

Jaune could only facepalm at the news. "Oh, for fucks' sake, Dad," he muttered.

"All we had to go on was the last place anyone saw you, and Ren and Nora finding Pyrrha's sash in Shion with a bloodstained wall behind it," Yang explained, more serious in tone now, and calmer, if her lilac irises were any indication.

"Well, that wasn't _my _blood!" Jaune retorted, voice starting to break as his emotions bubbled forth. _Deep breaths, Yak Boy. Emotion can carry you far, but you might not like where you end up, _came an unbidden nugget of wisdom, flavored with Sensei's..._unique_...wit. Jaune opened his eyes, having not even closed them consciously. His hand splayed out, palms towards the ground as he gathered himself again. "Okay, one thing at a time. What are you two doing here? Where the hell _is _here? How long is it going to take to get to Vale?"

"You're joking, right?" Yang asked. "We _live _here, dumbass."

"Welcome to Port Arcadia!" Ruby chirped.

"I swear, if you've been on Patch this whole time, I'm the first of _many _people who's gonna beat you to a pulp."

"_Noooooo_, I only got here this morning! I got dropped off by my Sensei. Said I had to find my own way back to Beacon."

"Pfft. That's thirty miles that way," Yang scoffed, pointing out over the water. "On a clear day, you can see Vale from here."

"What's a sensei?" Ruby asked.

"The person who's been training me for the last three months. Training _hard_," he added, shuddering at the memories.

Yang's lilac eyes narrowed in thought for a moment before a cocky smile slowly blossomed on her lips. "Prove it."

"What? How?"

"Well, Signal isn't officially in session yet, so the sparring room should be available."

"Yang…" Ruby began, not liking where the conversation was headed. Jaune wouldn't be the first friend her big sister had stomped into the ground.

"Feeling that confident, Yang?" Jaune fired back, causing both sisters to do a double take.

"Oh, _nice_. Grew some balls over the summer, did you? I like it. It's always fun to take the cocky ones down a peg," Yang purred.

"You're one to talk. This your new battle gear? Sure _looks _like it lets you take a pounding."

"Like you'd know what to do with…" she began, trailing off as she remembered another avenue of attack available to her. "You'd know all about pounding a girl, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not afraid to knock down a woman if it's called for."

"What about knocking one _up_?"

Ruby's silver eyes darted back and forth at the verbal exchange, aghast at how quickly this was degenerating into madness.

"Uh, what?"

"Never mind that. Whaddya say we get some chicken for dinner after I stomp out Vomit Boy here, Rubes? You and I can have the breasts, since we both know Jaune's into dark meat," she added with a wink tossed in his direction.

"I like breast meat just fine too," he replied, furiously trying to figure out what minefield Yang was trying to drag him into.

"Really? You've barely paid attention to mine. Or are you more of an ass man?" she asked, turning around and arching her back to put her almost completely naked derriere to best use.

"How do you walk in that thing, anyway? Doesn't it feel weird?"

"I know, right?" Ruby interjected, glad to have an ally in combating her sister's inappropriate fashion choices.

_Okay, what the actual _**_fuck_**? Yang thought, her display having failed to even get a blush out of the dork. _Terra really made a man out of him, didn't she?_

"I make it work. Besides, maybe I might catch me a future husband on the beach."

"What happened to being flexible?"

"Ehh, I still want kids one day. What about you, Jaune? How many kids are you and your wife gonna have?" she asked, wiggling the bait a little more, trying to get him to take the hook so that she could _really _embarrass him.

Jaune raised an eyebrow in thought, unsure just what Yang was up to this time, but knowing it certainly wasn't good. "Haven't really thought about it. It would depend on what she wanted, to be honest."

"You haven't even had that conversation?"

"Umm, why would I?" Jaune asked, increasingly confused.

"Because that's what a good husband and father does?" Yang replied, her irritation beginning to manifest in a twitching eyelid.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jaune," Ruby said softly. "We know."

"Know what?"

"We know all about your secret love child, Vomit Boy."

Jaune blanched at Yang's accusation, finally giving her the reaction she'd been digging for. "Who the hell told you? That was supposed to be a secret!" he hissed.

"Nobody. I figured it out all by myself."

"How?!"

"Well, there was that photo your sister shared. I have to say, I've seen worse matched couples."

"Wait…"

"And then when I saw Terra's timeline, I did the math and figured out you'd gotten her preggers during winter break, when you went to Argus. Haveta say I'm impressed you did the honorable thing. Not a lot of guys your age are able to commit to a marriage."

"Marriage…" he mused aloud before he saw where the disconnect was, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Terra's my sister-in-law, Yang," he said flatly.

"What?" Ruby asked, perking up slightly. Her sister merely flinched in surprise, digesting the news for a moment before she spoke.

"Oh, _wow_. That must be ten kinds of awkward. I mean, I don't know that I'd want Ruby to know what my spouse looks like naked."

"It's not like that, Yang. Saph and Terra asked me for..._a donation_," he admitted with an embarrassed grimace.

"Oh," Yang said simply.

"Huh? Oh, _ewww_!" Ruby said as the euphemism finally clicked in her mind, jumping away from Jaune like he had the plague.

"So wait, why doesn't Terra have her wife listed on FriendLink?"

"Saph dumped her account three years ago after she got catfished. She was a total wreck for months. Plus the rest of my family didn't even know they were married 'til they showed up in Shion together."

"So what happened there? How did you survive?" Ruby cut in again, back to worrying about her friend.

"Well, I was there when the village was hit, obviously. Bandits, then Grimm, because who doesn't love a party," he remarked darkly. "End of the day, I wind up one of the only two people left alive in the village. The other person almost didn't make it. I saved their life with my semblance, just like I did with you, Ruby. Turns out they're a former Huntsman, and I convinced them to train me. Had to be someplace secret though. We couldn't stay in Shion after all that."

"That sounds so cool! I mean, not the destroyed village part, obviously, but…" she trailed off, looking up at him again, her eyes watering slightly before she stepped forward and hugged him once again. "I thought I'd never see you again," she said quietly as Jaune's left arm returned the embrace, his right held out to his side. Taking the hint, Yang stepped in as well, giving him a much less affectionate side hug.

"I still wanna see if what you put everyone through was worth it," she muttered, poking a finger into the center of his breastplate.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough," Jaune replied with a smirk, releasing them both. "So when are you guys heading to Vale?"

"There are a couple of complimentary flights booked for Signal grads on Saturday and Sunday, but they're never full. Most of the student body here isn't from Patch to begin with, so they'll be coming in from wherever they spent the summer. You should be able to hitch a ride with us."

"Good, because I'm almost broke, and I need to find a place to stay until then. What's the hotel situation around here?"

"You can stay with us!" Ruby immediately volunteered. "Our cabin is just a little ways outside of town."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Dad's out of town, so we're all alone out there. We need a big, strong man around the house, Jaune," Yang said with a sultry simmer in her voice.

"You need someone to do all the crap chores you don't want to, got it."

"You're no fun anymore," Yang grumbled.

"Seven sisters trained me well. Lead the way, ladies."

"Well, we need to get changed first. And I still want to swing by Signal on the way home."

"Yang, you're not beating Jaune up."

"He can take it. He came back from the dead once already."

"I wasn't dead!," Jaune squawked.

"Details," she dismissed with the wave of a hand. "Come on, Ruby. Don't you want to say hi to your friends?" she asked as they started down the boardwalk toward where their lockers were located.

"They're not here yet. It's only the incoming freshmen for orientation weekend."

"It's okay, Ruby. I've always heard you guys talk about Signal. I'm kinda curious what a school that produces kickass Huntresses like you two looks like."

"Oh, I mean, it's not Beacon or anything," she began, averting her gaze at the praise, her cheeks rosy.

"So what _did _you get trained in?" Yang asked, pecking away at her scroll.

"Swordsmanship, some aura techniques. A lot of philosophy, oddly enough. Warrior mindset and all that. Found one mother of a stumbling block and got over it."

"Oh?" Ruby cut in.

"Yeah. A lot of the time, I was still trying to fight like I didn't have my aura unlocked. I was so afraid of taking a hit that I couldn't commit to taking the offensive. Sensei beat it into my head that I'm actually pretty good at taking a hit if I have to."

"How'd he do that?"

"By actually beating it into my head with a bamboo cane."

"Oh."

"Yeah. That was the go to method of correction."

"Sounds brutal," Yang said sympathetically.

"You get used to it. Went through a lot of bamboo," Jaune added absently.

"Okay, Vomit Boy. Wait here, we'll be right back," Yang said, dragging her little sister into the women's locker room.

Jaune stood waiting, looking around and taking in several envious stares from some of the other beachgoers. He offered a trio of boys a gentle smirk, the fingertips of his left hand tapping idly along the hilt of his sword. The implication, as well as Jaune's rough-and-tumble appearance, was clear, and they slunk away with a few contemptuous sneers thrown in for good measure. Cobalt blue eyes narrowed at that, the temptation to put the idiots in their place strong before Ruby emerged from the locker room in her customary battle dress with one modification. Gone was the full black shirt under her corset, replaced with billowing white sleeves and some mature exposure of her burgeoning cleavage.

"That's new, Ruby. It looks good on you," he said with a gentle smile, doing his best to suppress the memories dredged up by the scars he could barely see on her chest. His sisters had taught him well on how to appraise women's fashion, and he was definitely impressed with how one simple change had effected such an improvement. "The sleeves look a little loose though."

"Yeah, I've got an idea on how to keep them out of my way when I'm fighting. I like the new armor," she returned the compliment, blushing again. Whether this was from his praise of her, or something else, she couldn't say.

"Yeah, it's a little heavier, but much better fitted. I need to get it repainted though. Well, my shield mostly."

"We've got some stuff at the house, I don't know if the color's right."

"Ehh, I need to buy some things before school anyway. But thanks for the offer. For everything, really."

"I should be the one thanking you, Jaune," she said softly.

"Please, don't. All of you are special to me, and I would have done the same for any of you."

"I know, but...you saved me, Jaune. Thank you," she added, giving him a warm smile that made his heart swell with pride.

"Thank you for being such a good friend, Ruby. I don't know if I'd even still be at Beacon if it wasn't for you," he said sincerely, clasping her shoulder with his right hand and squeezing gently.

"Get a room, you two," Yang snarked from behind her sister, now back to her normal, curve-hugging battle attire. Jaune's gauntleted hand dropped back to his side, and Ruby's smile evaporated.

"Have you two eaten?" Jaune asked, glad to now have funds free to indulge his roiling stomach.

* * *

"I still can't believe Nora used to be quiet!" Ruby exclaimed, stuffing more of the baguette Jaune had treated them to into her mouth. The crackling sound of her chewing through the flaky crust threatened to drown out the conversation.

"I know, but Casian said it was true. Makes me wonder what prompted the change."

"_I'm _just wondering when she's gonna snap and drag Ren off into a dark closet somewhere," Yang fired back, licking nearly-melted butter off her fingertips, humming contentedly.

"I swear, those two are so oblivious about how they feel about each other," Jaune groused. "You could cut the tension in our dorm room with a knife sometimes. What?" he asked, bewildered by the flat gaze from both sisters.

Yang exhaled softly through her nose before answering. "Nothing. Come on, we're almost there."

Signal Academy was, as Ruby had informed him, no Beacon, but the smaller campus still held a certain gravitas. The red brick of the buildings peeked out from the gaps in the prodigious ivy that threatened to engulf them entirely, the centerpiece of the campus a long hall three stories tall. Four smaller structures appeared to be dormitories, given the small knots of young teenagers milling about in the courtyard.

Freshman orientation weekend officially started the next day, but the students not native to Patch had arrived on the ferry from Vale shortly after lunch. Getting settled into their dorm assignments had taken most of the afternoon, but now the eager teens were allowed to mingle until dinner in the dining hall.

"Did you guys have to stay in the dorms?"

"Freshmen have to, but only during the week. Didn't hurt that Dad teaches here, but yeah, Ruby was a disaster her first year."

"Yaaaannnnggggg."

"Zwei was _super _depressed about it too."

"I bet," Jaune replied, knowing full well what an attention whore the little corgi was. "At least Sunny still has my younger sisters at home."

"Oh? What is he?" Ruby asked eagerly.

"_She _is a golden retriever," Jaune corrected her gently.

"Because of _course _she is. Does she have blue eyes too?" Yang asked with a smile.

"Huh? Why does everyone always...you know, that is kinda weird to have a blonde dog, too, now that I think about it."

"Blondes _do _have more fun. Well, present company excluded, of course."

"I have plenty of fun," he grumbled.

"Reading terrible comics and watching even terribler comic book movies doesn't count."

"Says who?" Ruby fired back testily, crossing her arms and standing defensively next to Jaune. "X-Ray and Vav for life!" she added, extending her right hand out for Jaune to slap in solidarity.

"Dorks," Yang muttered, still managing to smile at her sister's antics and high spirits. They both failed to notice a subtle shift in her gaze, masked by the large sidestep she took before Jaune caught a vicious chop block to the back of his right knee. The impact managed to upend him, and he slammed onto his back in the cobblestone courtyard, his ears ringing. He barely had time to raise a defensive aura before a weight crashed onto his chest. A pair of long blades hammered into the ground point first, scissoring together to pin Jaune's head back, his aura sparking against sharpened Tigan steel.

"_YOU ASSHOLE!_" his assailant screamed in anguished rage.

"Liv?!" Jaune managed to croak out, barely able to breathe.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? What I've been through because of you?" she yelled, eyes red and brimming with tears. "I was the _only _one! The _only _one who believed you were still alive."

"Olivia, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, but I promise, I tried to let you all know I was okay." Jaune offered in apology.

"Everyone thinks I'm crazy," Olivia sobbed, slumping as Jaune felt the pressure on his neck dissipate.

"Heyyy," he replied, his patented big brother voice soft and soothing as he reached up to pull her into a hug.

"They sedated me for the funeral," she mumbled into her brother's neck.

Jaune took several deep breaths to still his rage and focus on comforting his sister, his eyes squinted shut in anger. Letting go with one of his arms, he reached up to extract Fang and Claw from the cobblestones underneath him before sitting up, still holding on to Olivia.

"What are you even doing here, Liv?"

"I start combat school here on Monday, duh," she sassed back, sniffling a bit as her emotions resumed an even keel. "Mostly because I wanted to get away from Dad, but Yang sure talked it up as being a fun school."

Jaune swung his gaze back to the blonde in question, finding her wearing a smug, yet warm, smile. "Thank you," he said softly, puzzling out the true reason for their visit easily enough.

"Any time, Vomit Boy."

"All right, break it up!" came a stern female voice, the thusfar unnoticed crowd of freshmen parting to allow an older woman in a long black dress with white accents to approach the two pairs of siblings. Thin spectacles were perched on her narrow nose, white hair with the occasional black holdout done up into a prim and proper bun. The obvious authority figure looked at the four at the center of the spectacle, her eyes narrowing as she fixed one of them with a stern gaze. "Miss Xiao Long. I might have known," she muttered darkly.

"Hey, teach!" Yang said with a grin calculated to be just wide enough to annoy the woman.

"Hey, Professor Clark!" Ruby added brightly.

"Miss Rose. And Miss Arc, correct? Would any of you care to explain what is going on?"

"Miss, umm, Professor Clark Ma'am?"

"Professor Clark is more than sufficient, I assure you," she replied, well used to students unfamiliar with a disciplined school setting.

"Umm, okay. After thinking over your _generous _offer, I've decided that I don't need counseling regarding the untimely death of my brother after all, no matter what my Dad says."

Rosemary Clark raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, regarding Olivia for several moments before shifting her gaze slightly to Jaune. "I see. Congratulations. I also recall instructing you and your classmates to secure your weapons in your assigned lockers before returning to the courtyard. Please tell me why you haven't done so?"

"Becausssssse I was busy?" she answered, hoping the excuse would fly.

It didn't.

"You _were_. As I understand it, your brother will be resuming classes at Beacon Academy next week?"

"Yes ma'am," Jaune replied, eerily reminded of Glynda Goodwitch.

"Good. Then you will be able to see each other on your weekends, _assuming _you don't manage to earn yourself detention," Clark added, clearly doubting Liv's ability to stay out of trouble. "Weapons. Locker. _Now_," she growled, prompting Olivia to get up and scurry off with a shouted apology to her brother. "As for you three, seeing as you are not wearing visitor passes, kindly return to the front office to obtain them, or remove yourself from campus immediately. I don't need any of your..._distractions_," she said acridly, fixing Yang in place with a threatening stare.

"All right, _sheesh_. Come on, guys, show's over," Yang muttered, pulling Jaune to his feet.


	11. Moonlight

**Chapter 11**

**Moonlight**

The journey to the northern gate of Port Arcadia was as short as they could manage, what with a return trip to the bakery to replace the cookies that Ruby had somehow managed to devour without Jaune or Yang noticing. More shopping for everything Jaune needed could wait until he had a better, prioritized list written down. He had picked up _some_ of his father's habits, after all.

"Bye Robin!" Ruby called out as they exited the gate, the young guard engaged in vetting another entrant to town, but waving back to her nonetheless. "That guy's a _total _tournament nerd if you let him get started," she informed Jaune conspiratorially.

He did not fail to see the irony, cutting his gaze to Yang to find her smiling as well. Whatever the sisters' relationship with the rest of their family, they had their own perfectly healthy dynamic going on, and it warmed his heart to see it in action. Granted, it was easier for Ruby and Yang to find their common ground, as they didn't have quite so many moving pieces to keep track of. He could honestly say that he only had the same level of easy, intimate affection with two of his seven sisters. The other five ranged from 'politely acknowledge each others' existence' in the case of daddy's girl Pearl to the 'why are you still breathing?' of Violette, though even that last one had moments of familial love buried amongst the sniping.

A brief flash of anger bubbled forth as he recalled Vi's parting shot as she boarded the airship to leave Shion.

'_Don't die out here, baby bro. I'd be totally inconsolable for, like, ten minutes.'_

_Bitch_.

Remembering his earlier stroll down this very road, Jaune silently hoped for another ambush to showcase his new skills, and perhaps work out a little anger, but thought better of it almost immediately. He remained mostly quiet throughout their brief trek, especially on subjects related to his training, allowing Ruby to regale him with the details of her summer vacation.

"And so I decided that the increased firing rate was worth the _tiny_ hit to accuracy, and the increase in maintenance wasn't even an issue. You _know_ how much I love maintaining my baby."

"Kinda hard to miss, Rubes," he replied with an easy grin.

It was good to be back.

"What does that mean, though?" he asked.

"Haven't you been paying attention?" she shrieked in protest. "It _means _that Crescent Rose is _now _also a high-impact customizable autoloading designated marksman's rifle."

"Huh?"

"She can magdump quicker now," Yang explained helpfully.

"Oh."

"So what about you? You said something about reforging your sword, right?"

"So you wanna play with Jaune's sword, huh?" Yang chimed in quickly, as if she'd been waiting eagerly to pounce on the opportunity.

"It's an heirloom antique, Yang. You've _never_ respected the art. That's why you had to retake weaponcrafting at Signal."

"Mrs. Cavanaugh just didn't like me," Yang mumbled defensively.

"_Twice_. No wonder you needed my help with Ember Celica! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to have a class with _you _in it?"

"It wasn't a strength, okay!?" Yang barked irritably. "Besides, weren't you the one who needed my tutoring just to get a D minus in unarmed combat?"

"Girls, girls. You're both pretty, okay?" Jaune interjected before the sibling spat could turn _truly_ ugly, the three of them coming to a halt on the road at the seeming non sequitur.

"I know, but do go on," Yang preened, successfully distracted even as her sister merely blushed slightly.

"Heh, still got it," he muttered with a soft chuckle. "But yeah, Crocea Mors was long overdue for an upgrade," Jaune confirmed, getting an excited gasp from Ruby in response. "And no, it is still _not _also a gun."

"Aww."

"I give you," he began, pausing for dramatic effect before drawing his sword, "Crocea Corax."

Jaune held the hilt of his sword in his right hand, resting the blade flat over the back of his outstretched left, presenting the weapon for examination. The obvious difference was the blade itself, such a departure that even Yang could tell the two apart. Gone was the nearly flat, slab-sided and elegantly simple blade, replaced instead with a diamond-shaped profile an inch and a half thick and nearly four wide, straight as an arrow with zero taper before it reached the sharply angled point.

"What's with the holes?" Yang asked, never having seen their like, even among the Huntsmen ranks, let alone the general public.

"Casian had to keep the balance right with the new blade profile, plus it conserved the Sanusian steel the blade was originally made from, so that he didn't have to use a lot of extra metal," Jaune explained as best he understood. "Plus they offer a better grip if I'm half-handing my sword," he added, turning his left hand over to show off the gripping studs embedded into the palm of his gauntlet.

The blade was the same thirty inch length as before, with the series of cutouts Yang had mentioned running through the blade. These were in two rows, one on either side of the blade's spine , leaving the center of the blade intact. The blade and point both were perfectly geometric, with nary a curve in sight, almost affecting a modern, Atlesian aesthetic.

"It looks like it came from some old video game!" Ruby said through a smile, successfully suppressing a giggle.

"Form follows function," he replied with the slightest of huffs. Yeah, it looked a little weird, but all indications so far were that it was damned effective.

The polygonal blade contrasted with the organic curves of the brass-plated steel crossguard, now nearly a foot wide at the points. These were sculpted to resemble the sharpened, two inch talons of some great beast, finely carved lines giving the illusion of scales. The crossguard gave way to the hilt, wrapped in a richly dyed royal blue leather, fixed in place by a widely-spaced winding of braided brass wire. The hilt had also been enlarged, now eighteen inches long, and was capped with a pommel carved to resemble a grasping claw, the four talons surrounding a pocket to hold a large gemstone in place if the mood struck the wielder, empty for now. Dangling from this was Casian's gift to him, a braided blue leather cord with four gold beads, ending in a tassel of the same leather that swayed gently with the motion of the sword.

"Crocea _Corax_?" Ruby asked curiously, her silver eyes examining the blade from mere inches away now.

"Yeah. Crocea Mors in old Sanusian means _Yellow Death_. A corax was an old type of battering ram, kind of like a drill. Remember that history paper we had with Oobleck last year? I did mine on the siege of Masada Keep during the Great War. My great-great-grandfather ordered a corax built on site, because nothing else could breach the walls. _Corbeau de Guerre_. I figured that since I had Casian reforge my sword to better breach Grimm armor, it seemed appropriate."

"Look at you, getting all poetic."

"Hey now, Yang. Don't tell me you just went with 'Ember Celica' because it sounded cool," Jaune replied, pausing as he didn't get an immediate answer. "Oh my god, you _did_, didn't you?"

"Hey now, a kickass Huntress like me needs to sound just as cool as she looks."

"Whatever," he retorted, smiling regardless as he sheathed his sword again. "I still don't know how you manage to hide all that in those little bracelets."

"Ancient Mistrali secret," Ruby intoned solemnly. "Besides, those are _nothing _compared to Gianduja."

"Gezhundheit."

"Coco's handbag?" Ruby clarified, slightly irritated at Jaune being dense.

"That thing's bigger on the inside, I _know _it is. I _swear _she's secretly Inspector Spacetime," Jaune said suspiciously.

"For the last time, Jaune, Inspector Spacetime doesn't actually exist," Yang deadpanned, clearly a subject she'd covered before.

"That's what they _want_ you to think!"

Yang chuckled at the third-most important dork in her life, hoping that the second would make it home before they left for Vale. Taiyang had never gotten to meet Jaune, plus the boy was in serious need of a scary father figure threatening his life after everything he'd pulled this summer. Brothers know Ruby couldn't manage _scary_ if her life depended on it, and he seemed to be largely immune to her own tactics somehow.

"Before I forget, are all the Grimm around here so small?" he asked, quickly shifting topics.

"Mostly, yeah. Signal faculty and students keep 'em pretty pared back, so they never really get that old. Why?" Yang asked.

"Talking about my sword got me thinking about this afternoon."

"What happened?"

"Just some Beowolves on the way into town."

"As in more than one?" Yang asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Five, yes."

"Bullshit."

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked with naked concern in her voice.

"I would've said if I wasn't." he said flatly, his tone drawing notice from both sisters. Ruby felt a little ashamed at her assumption, and Yang couldn't help but feel the chilly backlash in his reply. "Look, I get it. I'm at the bottom of our class for a reason, but I've been working my ass off for an entire year now, so maybe, _just _maybe, you all can stop treating me like a damn civilian," Jaune explained, barely contained emotion in his voice.

Silence reigned over the trio of friends for several moments, Yang's expression unreadable as she processed what he'd said against how he'd acted since they'd reunited. Something wasn't quite adding up for her, and it wasn't something she could just shrug off either. Ruby decided to cut right through the awkwardness instead.

"Okay," she said simply, looking Jaune in the eye and giving him a gentle smile. "I'm sorry, Jaune."

"All right," he said, his voice losing it's edge. "Apology accepted."

"Come on, you two," Yang cut in, resuming their walk to their homestead.

"So what's the deal with that teacher, anyway?" Jaune asked, hoping that Olivia wasn't in too much trouble before school even began.

"Professor Buzzkill? Aside from the fact that she probably hasn't gotten laid since the Great War?"

"Yang!" Ruby snapped, shutting her sister up. "Professor Clark is the Deputy Headmistress, and is the one in charge of discipline that isn't resolved in the classroom. Guess who was in her office a _lot_ during her time at Signal?"

"Uhh, you?" he asked earnestly, earning a guffaw from Yang as Ruby seethed beside them.

"It's the hair. It's _gotta_ be the hair," she grumbled.

"You kinda walked into that one, Rubes," he said, mollifying her a bit.

"Still, Clark can't be as bad as what this sensei guy did to you," Yang added. "So how do I find him? Give him a piece of my mind?"

"For the last time, Yang. I'm not telling you their name. I made a promise, and for a good reason."

"And what kind of reason would you have to protect someone who sounds like an abusive asshole?" Yang continued, unrelenting.

"They're not the one I'm protecting. They have powerful enemies, the kind where _knowing _a secret can get you killed. That's all I'm saying about it. Besides, Sensei would probably just take you over a knee and spank you like a disobedient child, if they didn't kill you outright, and then _me_ for giving 'em up."

Yang and Ruby both looked at their friend as if they barely recognized him now, the sisters at once frustrated and worried for Jaune. Yang was, naturally, more the first than the second, with her sister the exact opposite.

"Please, just drop it," he added after weathering their gazes for a moment. "I know it sucks, and I know it's frustrating, but it's for the best. There are some fights you don't want a part of, and I _really_ wish I hadn't gotten roped into this one. All I can do is ask you to trust me. I promise if anything comes up that puts you or any of our friends in danger, I'll let you know, okay?"

"You'd better. I got tired of the 'it's a secret' crap last year," Yang replied, still clearly unhappy, and not just with him.

"And 'friends' includes you too, okay?" Ruby added, getting an affirmative grunt and nod from Jaune.

He stopped as the trees thinned, looking back the short distance to where they'd left the main road before returning his gaze to the two story log cabin before them. "Seriously? I missed this place by a hundred yards earlier," he groused.

"Dad bought this place because it's nice and quiet, but still close enough to town to be convenient. Plus we're not so far that we can't evacuate into town, if worst comes to worst," Ruby added absently. It's not like either of them feared the Grimm.

"Welcome to Shezz Xiao Long!" Yang said cheerily.

"It's pronounced '_chez'_," Jaune corrected, his Gallic sensibilities rankling at the mispronunciation.

"Ugh, _fine_. Shezz _Chez _Long."

Jaune cut his gaze across to her just in time for Yang to blow a raspberry at him, drawing a gentle shaking of his head at her attempt at humor.

"You're impossible."

"Nah. Just hard to get."

Ruby zipped forward to the door, opening it and crouching low with her arms spread wide. Jaune could hear a muffled bark, then the staccato clicking of claws on a wooden floor rapidly increasing in volume before a black and white blur leapt into her arms, spinning Ruby around from the impact.

"Oh, I missed you too!" she squealed as Zwei began to feverishly lick at her face. "You remember Jaune, right?" she asked, turning the dog so that he could see him and Yang before allowing him to squirm out of her grip and fall to the ground. Zwei scampered over, leaping up several times around Yang's ankles before she reached down to scratch behind his ears.

Jaune chuckled softly at the little corgi's antics, reaching down himself to offer the bundle of energy some affection as well. Zwei paused, his head cocked comically to one side, not recognizing the new addition to his personal aroma smorgasbord. He took two steps forward, sniffing tentatively at Jaune's proffered hand before slowly slinking backwards, ears pinned back and a low growl in his throat.

"Zwei!" Ruby shouted, at once upset and confused by the dog's reaction to Jaune. This was especially puzzling since they'd met before and gotten along famously. "I don't know what's gotten into him, Jaune."

"It's okay. I uhh, kinda ran out of soap last month," he admitted sheepishly. "Plus Grimmstench."

"I wasn't gonna say anything," Yang confided with an eye roll. "Top of the stairs, second door on the left. Touch any of the _Tressant Supreme_ products and I kill you," she added nonchalantly. Setting boundaries was important.

"Thanks, Yang. You have a washing machine? My clothes are probably pretty ripe too. Plus everything in my pack is soaking wet right now."

"I'll take care of it, Jaune," Ruby volunteered.

Jaune dropped his pack on the floor and headed upstairs, finding the bathroom where it was promised and closing the door behind him. He turned on the shower and quickly stripped, stepping under the almost painfully hot water with a hiss as the stream began to wash over him, slowly easing body and mind.

What would be considered a fairly obscene amount of time later, at least in an Arc household with ten people under the roof, Jaune was toweling off when he heard a knock at the door.

"It's me, Jaune," came Ruby's awkward voice.

"Sorry I took so long, did you need the shower?"

"Don't worry about it, Yang would've still been in there. Besides, we showered at the beach," she reassured him. "I brought you a pair of my dad's pajama pants, they should fit you until you can wash the rest of your stuff. Plus a change of underwear that I threw in the drier for you. Are you decent?"

"Hold on," he said, wrapping the thankfully large towel around his waist before opening the door a crack. Ruby offered up a dark brown pair of light pants with pockets and a drawstring along with his undergarments, and Jaune plucked them from her grasp. "Thanks, Ruby."

"No problem!" she chirped, her voice cracking a hair before she closed the door behind her.

Pretending she hadn't caught that glimpse of his bare back was going to be difficult to say the least. What she'd seen stirred unfamiliar emotions within her, along with a good measure of fear slathered on top. Maybe the scars had always been there? It wasn't like she'd seen him in just a towel before, right?

She resolved to ask him about it later, and hopefully without her sister present to tease her into oblivion.

* * *

The Xiao Long household couch was certainly comfortable, and Jaune couldn't complain about it, especially with the light blanket Ruby had provided along with the big, fluffy pillow currently wadded in his fists. His frustration with the lack of sleep was evident, the blanket rumpled over his form from his restless movements. Perhaps it was the overabundance of comfort compared to his sparse existence over the last three months, or just something weighing on his conscience. The mess that was his life right now wasn't exactly conducive to a good night's sleep, and so he rolled to a seated position, reaching for the end table beside him.

His scroll was now fully charged, and he was still just as locked out of the CCNet without the security updates that could only be downloaded from Atlesian servers. Local comms couldn't even work for him without the update, and he'd resorted to borrowing Yang's scroll just to have a text conversation with Olivia after dinner. Dropping his device onto the table in frustration, Jaune idly scratched at his belly, relieving an itch as he contemplated what to do to help him sleep.

He stood and stretched, blue eyes casting about in the bright moonlight streaming in from the window until he located the kitchen. The house was quiet, as neither Ruby nor Yang were snorers, for which Jaune was eternally grateful. He padded over towards the kitchen, bare feet slapping softly on the wooden floorboards before he froze, a chill running down his spine as he caught a glimpse of something he never thought he'd see in this house.

Two more steps brought him to face the wall just to the side of the entryway into the kitchen, a single picture hanging there that he'd missed during the evening's conversations. Four Huntsmen, all wearing easy, confident smiles against the backdrop of the Emerald Forest. The blond could only be Yang and Ruby's father, from the pictures the girls had shared with him over the last year. The rest, however…

"_You… _" he whispered, now burdened with yet another secret he didn't want.

Shaking his head, he walked into the kitchen, checking several cupboards until he found a tall glass before pouring himself a drink from the tap. Jaune had never really paid particular attention to hydration before, and the few times he'd sucked down a can of Brawndo was simply because nothing else was available, not because 'it has electrolytes'. _His _personal preference was People Like Grapes, because really, _who didn't_? But now?

Water was second only to air on the hierarchy of bodily needs, and a parched Huntsman could become a _dead _Huntsman in short order. Professor Port had mentioned something along those lines in passing once. Maybe. Jaune had either tuned the man out or been half asleep, so he couldn't be absolutely sure. Sensei, however… They'd drilled that concept into him with conviction and fervor. And by conviction and fervor, he meant humiliation and the crack of a cane. He couldn't keep his promises if he was dead, after all.

Setting the glass in the sink, he turned to head back to the living room when something caught his attention through the window. The clearing between the cabin and the barn was well lit from above, and on the edge of it, Ruby Rose stood in full battle gear, stock still and looking up at the sundered moon. Sensing something amiss, Jaune quickly slipped on his boots, forgoing tying the laces for now. Plucking Crocea Corax from its resting place atop the coffee table, he made his way outside, leaving the back door only slightly ajar. The soft breeze stirred the few stalks of grass that reached above their brethren, the only motion in the scene before him. She began to move at last, her weapon unfurling in a riot of noise before she started to work through practice forms, either doing so with her eyes closed or so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice his approach. Ruby's voice murmured softly, barely audible over the sound of Crescent Rose splitting the wind, repeating a mantra born of pain.

"_Not gonna get me again."_

With a start, he finally understood what it was like to be on the other side of this scene.

"_Don't hesitate, Jaune. Let your feet flow over the ground like water, never rooted to one spot."_

_Pyrrha's words do little to effect change in Jaune's steps, the complex movements yet beyond him. The moonlit night carries little sound beyond the scroll recording and the rasping hiss of the pea gravel beneath his feet, the repurposed rock garden serving well for a training space. They are hiding, the two of them, a necessity given the situation they find themselves in. Not another soul can be found for miles, and Jaune is grateful for that. He doesn't have to worry about more than a single set of eyes upon his clumsy self, and those are fast asleep inside the abandoned ryokan, trying to heal with the aid of every last bit of aura he'd been able to expend in assistance._

"_What the hell are you doing?" comes a cracked, haggard voice._

_Or not._

"_Training. Some video lessons from my partner. Sorry if I woke you," he adds hastily._

_He hears a long exhalation, whether from exasperation or simply fatigue, he can't tell. The hard clack of a cane sounds three times in slow succession as the lone member of his audience ambles forth onto the porch, their face still cloaked in shadow._

"_Show me," is the simple command, the tone of voice heavily steeped in unspoken authority._

"_I...okay," he replies, seeing no possible harm in it. Resetting the recording, he presses play, trying to keep the cadence and timing of the lesson intact, as he already knows every one of Pyrrha's words by heart. He begins, moving through a simple cross exercise for three repetitions before the lesson gets harder. The next iteration is faster, and a mite more complex, working in some random elements. Only once does he outright trip over his own feet, an improvement over the first time he'd opened and practiced with this video._

"_And that's it," he says at last, allowing himself to relax his posture now._

"_I thought you were a Huntsman, not some cut-rate dancer."_

"_I...I'm getting better," Jaune replies, not the most self-confident person on Remnant even on a good day._

"_Ha!" comes the brief, cackling retort. "You __**still**_ _move like a pregnant yak with two club feet."_

"_And that's why I'm training."_

"_You're doing it wrong."_

"_I'm following Pyrrha's…"_

"_Stop!" comes the harsh interruption. "We agreed. No names."_

"_Sorry," he says sheepishly, even if that particular agreement was something he'd been forced into by his adamant companion. "I'm following her instructions to the letter. I can't live up to how awesome she is, not now. Probably not ever."_

"_Then don't. You're not her. You're you. Be a better you."_

"_Which is why…"_

"_You're out here flailing around trying to be someone you're not?"_

"_I…" he begins, at a loss for words._

"_Do you always fight in just your pants, with no shirt on?" is asked of him pointedly._

"_I was trying to stay cool, and get through the lesson."_

"_Then you're an idiot. You want to fight better? __**Train **__better."_

"_It's also kind of exhausting keeping you alive right now."_

_A scoffing sigh is his only reply for several moments._

"_Go get everything on, get back out here, and do it again. I can't have my __**savior **__getting bested by the next small child with a sharp stick." he hears, the sarcasm roiling in the quiet summer evening._

Jaune sighed at the memory; the sheer amount of soreness resulting from the ensuing workout had rendered him immobile for the next day. Blinking once, he shifted his focus back to the here and now, watching as Ruby planted the point of Crescent Rose into the dirt, assuming a familiar firing position with her eye behind the scope of her beloved rifle. He froze for a moment, eyes scanning the forest in front of the both of them for a threat, his hands holding Crocea Corax at the ready. Finding none, he wondered what she was up to, given that her weapon was sure to wake Yang up if she fired it.

Walking up behind her, he leaned against a tall tree stump to observe, now a little concerned that she hadn't noticed him. Without warning, he heard a soft click before Ruby cycled the bolt, ejecting an empty casing that bounced off his chest. He could hear her take a deep breath, her exhalation even and long before the cycle repeated itself, the second casing popping him in the nose. The third iteration changed everything, as the soft click was replaced by the muffled pop of a live primer.

With a frenzied battle cry, Ruby spun into action, whirling her scythe impossibly fast for someone so small. Jaune barely had time to duck before Crescent Rose removed a six inch section from the top of the stump he'd been leaning against, the foot-wide round of hardened maple thudding to the ground several yards away, joining several more like it. Blue eyes flicked upward again, barely noticing the scattered strands of blond hair floating away as he took in her appearance.

Ruby's silver eyes were wide, shock and horror written across her face, her breathing heavy as she leaned over. She was balanced against her weapon, now braced against the ground, her red cape dangling limply in the still air. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, far more than he'd ever seen her before.

_Except that one time,_ he remembered with a chilling twist of his heart.

"Ruby?" he asked quietly, as one would a frightened child.

"Jaune!" she replied, flinching at the sound of her name before she jumped back, nearly tripping over Crescent Rose in the process before she regained her balance.

"You okay?"

"Never better! Just out here. Training. Yup, just training!" she babbled nervously.

Jaune regarded her for several seconds, the pause making her even more nervous than she already was. "Okay. I just saw you out here, and I was wondering what you were doing is all," he finally said, deciding to play along with her fib for the moment. "What was that with the empty casings?"

"Oh, that. Kind of a modified ball-and-dummy drill."

"A what now?"

"It's a gun thing," she replied before she caught herself. "Oh, right. What you do is load a magazine with a couple dummy rounds. They don't go _bang_," Ruby added in response to Jaune's blank look. "Then you go through the magazine, and when you hit a dummy round, you can see if you're slamming the trigger, or jerking your weapon anticipating the recoil. What I was doing was kind of the opposite. Bunch of empty casings plus one live primer mixed in at random."

"That sounds a little weird."

"I just wanna work on my target fixation. I can kinda zone out when I'm looking through the scope sometimes. Leaves me...open…" she trailed off, and Jaune clued in on her meaning immediately.

"Oh. Sorry," he added, remembering full well how her slip-up had nearly gotten her killed. "You need any help?" he asked, forcing his voice into a happier tone, trying to drag her out of her melancholy.

"Sure! Here," she said, handing over a pair of empty magazines. "Load these for me? I can't be surprised like I need to be if I'm the one doing it."

"Oh, okay, sure thing."

"Range bag is behind the log there," she added, pointing to a large log that appeared to have been cut from the same tree Ruby had been slowly whittling down to ground level. Jaune took a seat on it, reaching down for the small canvas bag and setting it in his lap. "Inert casings in the main bag, live ones in the side pocket, one per mag."

"How many fit in these?"

"Eight. Anything more than that would throw the balance off, and I'd need to completely redesign my baby."

Jaune went about his work slowly, unfamiliar with anything of this large a caliber, but the concept was pretty much the same as Ren's pistol mags, and without too much effort he was done. "Here ya go, Ruby."

"Could you put one in for me? Really trying to keep myself honest here. Mag release is at the front," she added, swinging the butt end of Crescent Rose around almost as if for inspection. Jaune swapped out the magazines with a minimum of fumbling, getting a satisfying _click_ as the new one slotted home. "Thanks, Jaune. Wait here? Well, don't stand next to that tree again."

"Don't need to tell me twice," he replied with a chuckle.

Ruby resumed her position, quieting her thoughts and gazing out into the night through the precision optics of her weapon. Taking and releasing a deep breath, she applied an even two pounds of pressure to the trigger, jumping ever so slightly when the striker snapped forward and detonated a live primer again. Rushing to catch up to what her response time should have been, she spun and hammered Crescent Rose into and through the maple log behind her, the cut at an angle far removed from horizontal. The chunk of wood she'd removed slid down slowly before thudding to the ground.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked with quiet concern.

"Yes, I'm okay!" she barked back. "You're not supposed to put the live round in first!"

"You said 'random'!" he replied, his voice raising defensively before he caught himself. "What's wrong, Ruby?" he asked, calm and concerned again.

"I...I just," she began, trying to find the courage to speak.

"You look like you're tearing yourself apart over something," he began, standing up to approach her.

"I couldn't sleep. I keep...I keep reliving that day, Jaune," she said softly, averting her gaze.

He took a calming breath, steadying himself so that he could be a rock for her to stand upon. "You're still here, Ruby."

"I know, it's just...there are so many who _aren't_. I couldn't stop Cinder. She killed Penny, Jaune. Killed her right in front of me. Murdered one of the kindest, sweetest people I've ever known. She killed Penny like it was _nothing_ to her. Like _she_ was nothing," Ruby whispered, tears beginning to fall. "And then I saw her try to do the same to my Uncle Qrow. I don't even know what happened then. I was looking through the scope, getting ready to put a round through her head, and then there was a light, brighter than the sun. When I came to, it hurt. It hurt _so much_. There are times I can still feel them. I can still feel the blades in my back," she admitted, barely noticing as Jaune embraced her, squeezing gently. "I knew it. I knew I was dead, Jaune. It was so cold. So..._dark_," she sobbed into his chest.

"Have you talked to anyone about this? Your dad? Yang?"

"Yeah, but…"

"It still happened."

"That too."

"There's something else?" he asked her, worried even more now.

"Something I can't talk to them about. I don't know how they'd take it."

"They love you, Ruby. They're your family."

Ruby stilled, having just realized she'd returned his hug, her arms locked around his lower back. More volatile emotion was added to the mixture that was Ruby Rose, threatening to overwhelm her, and she clung to him like she was drowning. She couldn't look him in the eye, and so chose to stare at her home instead, praying that her sister wouldn't see her..._them,_ like this. She also hoped against hope that he wouldn't think she was crazy after what she was about to say.

"Jaune?"

"Yeah, Ruby?"

"What happens when we die?" She cursed herself for even asking the question as she felt his breath hitch, his posture stiffening as the words hit him like a bomb. She waited a moment before taking a breath, prepared to tell him to disregard her question before he spoke.

"I don't know, Ruby. Why do you ask?" he replied, mostly succeeding in keeping the trepidation out of his voice.

"I...saw something. Before you found me. Before you brought me back," she said, intentionally keeping the details vague.

"I know," he whispered, his own eyes misting over.

"What? How do you...?"

"Silver eyes. Just like yours. Black hair fading to red at the tips. A white cloak billowing in the wind, backlit by the sunset," Jaune said calmly, despite the fear he held for what she thought of him now. "I'm so sorry, Ruby."

"Huh? Why?"

"It's a side effect of my semblance. If I push too hard, if someone is almost gone, I...see things. Almost like I'm pushing into someone else's soul and overwhelming it. And I end up with emotions. Images. Feelings. Thoughts that aren't my own. It's happened three times already. I was so desperate to keep you alive. So scared that I woke my semblance and used it without even realizing it. At the time, I thought that I was just seeing you, like...a _future_ you. Older. What you could become. What I was trying to protect. But that wasn't it at all. I know that now. It was something I never should've seen, and I know that it was wrong for me to intrude on that moment"

"No, it wasn't," she corrected softly. "You didn't do it on purpose. And now at least I know I'm not crazy, right?" she asked, perking up for a moment before her voice fell again. "I don't even have many solid memories of my mother. She...left us...when I was four. I couldn't tell you any stories, or anything she'd ever told me. All I have are..._moments_. Feelings. Yang remembers her better than I do."

"Is she why you asked…?"

"Yeah."

Jaune paused to contemplate his words very carefully before speaking again. "You're wondering what's waiting for us," he stated more than asked, getting a simple nod in reply. "I honestly don't know, Ruby. Never really thought about it, in spite of being dead for the last three months, apparently."

"Not funny," she said, frowning despite how much she wanted to giggle, before poking him hard in the ribs.

"I've heard people talk about the afterlife like it's a fact. I've also heard that there's nothing after this . Once you're gone, you're gone, so make your life count for something while it lasts. Kind of dark, really, but there it is."

"Which do you think it is?"

"Like I said, I don't know. What I _do _know, without a shadow of a doubt, is that your mother loved you very much." Ruby gasped at his words, taken completely by surprise at his insight. "If there _is_ an afterlife, then she's there. Proud of you. Missing you. Waiting for you. Kind of makes me wonder what my own ancestors might think about me," he mused aloud.

"And if there isn't?" she asked, at once uncertain and hopeful.

"Then what you..._we_...saw? It was just you remembering everything you could about her. Reaching out to the one person who you knew loved you unconditionally more than anyone else. If your mother left such an impression on you in the short time you knew her, then she was easily the second best mom in the history of Remnant."

"_Second_ best?" she replied flatly, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she disengaged and took a step back.

"I know what I said."

"Are you, Jaune Arc, implying that my mother, Summer Rose, isn't the greatest supermom in the history of the world, _ever_?"

"You've never met _my_ mom," he replied with a gentle smirk.

"Like your mother could ever invent my mom's famous almond triple chocolate chunk cookies."

"You've never had Rose Arc's madeleines before, have you?"

"Well, you've never had _my _mom's cookies either!"

"I _would _have, but you said that _someone _ate them all before you could share."

"Yeah, and?"

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"You can't prove anything!" she squawked indignantly, her angrily pointing index finger an inch from the tip of his nose.

Jaune's eyes crossed, focused on that digit, a short gigglesnort escaping his nose before he devolved into a full on chuckle. Ruby followed suit shortly after, her accusatory posture breaking down entirely. Silver eyes sparkled as she looked up at her friend with a burgeoning smile, a soft sigh leaving her chest and taking a good measure of her anxiety with it.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"For?"

"Being a good friend. I've never had many friends. Not before all of you guys."

"I don't see why not, you're caring, smart, and just plain fun to be around," he replied, favoring Ruby with a smile of his own.

To hide her blush, she stepped forward to hug him again, not caring what her sister might think for once, and practically purring when she felt him return the embrace.

"I wish I could have met her, Ruby," he said sincerely. "I only caught a fraction of what you felt for her, but I could tell she deserved every bit of love in your heart." He felt her breath catch in her chest again, as she fought once again to keep her emotions under control.

"She'd be happy that I've got such a good friend, I think."


	12. Waking Up

**Chapter 12**

**Waking Up**

Dawn came with little to herald it save for the faint titters of birdsong in the woods surrounding the cabin. Sunlight filtered through Jaune Arc's eyelids, and he squinted against the light before silently berating himself for sleeping past sunrise. He then remembered that he didn't have Sensei to get the tea on for any more, and thus allowed himself a moment of semi-conscious respite on the couch. What did finally get his attention was the soft drone of a snore not his own, emanating from just below his left ear, stopping before he felt warmth and humidity bloom against the side of his neck as a slow exhalation of breath washed over him.

"Ruby? I don't think this is a good idea," he sleepily whispered, lest he awaken and then incite the sisterly wrath of Yang Xiao Long. For the life of him, he couldn't even remember falling asleep with her in the room, let alone on the couch with him. The only answer he got from her was the soft touch of a very wet tongue, and his eyes flew wide open before he ejected his bedmate onto the floor. "Damn it, Zwei!" he grumbled, the monochromatic corgi plopping his fluffy butt onto the floor and staring up at Jaune like the adorable little miscreant that he was.

Even as rude of an awakening as it was, he couldn't stay mad at the dog, and he reached a hand out to lazily scratch behind his ears. Zwei moved his head this way and that, making sure Jaune hit all the right spots until he was satisfied, padding away towards his water bowl with soft claw clicks on the wooden floor. For _far_ from the first time in his life, Jaune wished he could have such a carefree life, but then he'd never have been at Beacon, and never…

_Ruby, huh? Makes sense I would think it was her, since there's no __**way**_ _Yang would be caught dead cuddling with me on the couch, and no one else is in the house,_ he mused silently, dismissing the notion easily. He'd been truthful with his family as well, unsure if Ruby was even _interested _in boys, or anyone in a romantic sense, so his imagination had just been casting her in the role of the ever-clingy Ivy Arc.

Right?

Shaking his head softly, he reached under the end table for his pack, pulling out the now thankfully clean pair of ratty blue jeans and fumbling about under the blanket to swap them out for the borrowed pajama pants he had slept in. Now at least decent again, he shuffled out of bed, bare feet against the warm wood feeling not unlike the last three months. He folded the blanket, trying to be a good houseguest, noticing a coating of dog hair on the top edge. Blinking once, he then looked down to the thin white undershirt he wore and noticed that it was similarly sullied. Growling softly under his breath, Jaune shucked the undergarment, bending down to collect a clean one from his pack. He stood up and pulled it over his head, slipping it down his torso and tucking it into his jeans, looking over towards the kitchen to identify the noise he thought he'd heard.

"Hello?"

"Morning, Jaune. You a coffee guy?" Yang called out from the kitchen as he heard the faucet opened to fill a carafe.

"Not normally, but I'll take some. Thanks," he added almost as an afterthought. "How'd you sleep?"

"Ehh, closed my eyes until I lost consciousness, the usual."

Jaune chuckled softly at the joke as he walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He watched Yang move through the room with her typical feral grace, a tiger on the prowl in short shorts and a halter top. Getting the appropriate materials situated, she pressed the start button on the coffee maker before she plopped into the chair across from him. "I never figured you for a morning person," he remarked with a lazy smile.

"I can be when I need to," she said easily, Jaune's nerves now on edge for some reason.

"Oh?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"Oh," he said, now realizing he was on dangerous ground.

"I saw you two out there last night."

"Ummm, you see…"

"Shut up," she interjected; forceful, but not really _angry_. "You don't think I know when she's sneaking out at night? She's _never _had my skill with that," she clarified. "I know she's been training, and I know she's hurting, Jaune. I've tried to reach her, but there's something else going on. Something she won't tell me about."

"Yeah," he said quietly, with a measure of shame.

"Oh, stow it. You're not in trouble. I just wanna know what the problem is."

"I don't think I can tell you, honestly," he replied, torn between helping a friend and keeping her confidence.

Yang's eyes narrowed at his response, and she took a long moment to answer him. "I'm going to allow that only because of how she came up the stairs and went to bed. I was watching with my door cracked, and she was smiling. She was _happy_. Happier than I've seen her in months. Whatever you did, thank you."

"I just listened. Gave her a hug. Let her vent. I swear it's nothing about you, Yang. You're a good sister."

"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know."

"And here I thought you were about to kill me for defiling Ruby or something."

"Oh, please. Like you've even _kissed _a girl before," she said through a smile that faded as she heard him sigh, his expression darkening.

"Not that really counted, no," he said quietly.

"Okay, one, I was joking, and two, how the hell does a kiss 'not count'?"

"When there isn't mutual attraction behind it," he replied, his voice melancholy.

"Okay, there's a story here. Who was it? It wasn't one of those 'practice' kiss things with one of your sisters, was it?" she asked, her face wrinkled in disgust.

"What?! No!" he barked, offended nearly beyond his breaking point at the insinuation.

"Well, then who?" she continued to goad him, and Jaune knew there wasn't anything for it but the truth.

"Emerald," he said flatly, almost chuckling at how quickly Yang's expression turned. "Couple of days before...you know. Ran into her in a hallway and she just planted one on me. She didn't exactly look happy afterwards either, like I sucked at it. At the time, I just told myself she'd lost a bet or it was some stupid dare. Wouldn't be the first time I was the butt of the joke. Now, looking back on it, I think she was trying to distract me from something her team was doing. Gods only know what," he added.

Yang took several moments to process what he'd said before speaking. "I...no, that wasn't your fault. Fuck that bitch," she muttered venomously.

"Yeah."

"Jaune?" she asked quietly after a pause.

"Yeah?"

"Do you _want _a real one? I mean, I'm not in love with you or anything, but a girl could do worse…" she rambled on, a bit unsettled but not actually _nervous_.

"I'm good," he replied, realizing that he was seeing behind her facade for the first time. He couldn't help but smile at the notion. "Appreciate the offer, but you don't need to thank me more than you already have."

If she was disappointed by her offer being rejected, Yang didn't show it, instead standing up as the coffee maker belched and sputtered at the end of its brew cycle. "Ehh, just thought for a second it might be fun. Don't read too much into it," she remarked over her shoulder.

"I get it."

"No. You didn't. Too late now. Besides, I don't wanna ruin you for other girls," she replied over her shoulder, returning easily to her teasing ways. "You like it nice and blonde, right?' she asked, remembering an ill-advised flirt from him several months ago.

"_I like my coffee like I like my women, Weiss. Pale. And. Sweet."_

The suggestive eyebrow waggle had nearly sold the statement, but Weiss had proffered a counterproposal of forcibly removing his kidneys by way of his sinus cavity that was too lucrative for Jaune to turn down. It was a pity, really. Yang was almost proud of the dork for his wordplay on that one.

"Yeah, thanks. Not exactly a proper cafe-au-lait, but close enough."

"Sorry we're backwards hicks out here. Coffee snob," she grumbled, setting a yellow mug in front of him labeled 'World's Okayest Dad' in black letters.

"Not what I meant, Yang. Sorry. I just...miss home sometimes," he said before finally reading the mug in front of him and giving a small snort of laughter.

"When was the last time you went back?"

"Since school started? I haven't," he admitted quietly, his smile now gone.

"Wow," she said simply, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from her own mug, glossy black with flames enameled around the base.

"It's complicated. Or, it _was_. We worked some things out over the summer. I might have swung through, but then Shion happened, and everything after."

"So why'd you end up in P.A. instead of Orleans?"

"Wasn't by choice, Yang. It's just where I was dumped. And there isn't enough time for me to fly there and make it back to Beacon by Monday. And that's _if_ my mother doesn't tie me up and throw me in the basement for the next fifty years. I'll get a hold of them as soon as I can get my scroll up and running, I promise."

"You'd better. If Liv asks me to kick your ass, I will."

"Thanks."

"Oh, I wouldn't thank me…"

"No, for helping her," he interjected. "Our dad isn't huge on us following in his footsteps. He's lost too many people over the years."

"Yeah, she told me about it. Maybe that dustup you two had in Shion finally got the point across."

"I hope so."

"Morning, Yang. Hey, Jaune," Ruby said through a yawn as she reached the foot of the stairs. She was still in her pajamas, and Jaune recognized the spaghetti-strap top and pants combination from initiation night the year prior. He smiled at the memory of how they'd met, and had to stop himself from commenting on how much better she was at filling out the outfit now.

"Morning, Ruby. Sleep well?" he asked, sticking to an innocuous question and trying to keep things calm and civil, given his company.

"Not from what I heard last night," Yang interjected immediately with her mischievous grin manifesting fully again. "All that moaning kept me up half the night. So who's this 'Juan' guy, anyway?"

"You heard that?" she gasped, her hands covering her mouth as silver eyes went wide.

Jaune's eyes mirrored his friend's, his gaze flicking back and forth between both sisters as an awkward pause chilled the room.

"You got me. You _actually _got me. I'm proud of you, sis," Yang said at last, not hearing the bated breath leave Jaune's lungs as she stepped forward to wrap Ruby in a headlock and plant a brief noogie on her scalp.

"Yeah, whatever. We still have milk, right?" Ruby asked, breaking free and rummaging through the refrigerator, reaching down to scratch behind Zwei's ears as she did so.

"Last of it's in Vomit Boy's coffee there."

"What?" he blurted, trying to crawl out from the metaphorical bus he'd been thrown under.

"Do I need to remind you _why_ I drink milk?" she angrily demanded of him with her brow furrowed and arms crossed.

"Because you like it?" Jaune ventured.

"Because I have to compete with _that_!" she retorted, pointing at her sister, who favored them both with her trademark shit-eating grin.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Ruby. You're your own kind of beautiful," he said with a soft smile, selling a line he'd given his sisters innumerable times before. "Besides, you're catching up pretty nicely," he added before he could stop himself, his smile evaporating even as Yang's grew wide. Ruby simply stood dumbstruck, a blush heating her cheeks as she gawked at the unexpected compliment.

"Hey, Rubes, is it cold in here, or are you just happy to see Jaune?" she asked, flicking her gaze downward for a moment. This had the desired effect; calling the pair's attention to the fact that Ruby was quite obviously _not_ wearing a bra under her thin tank top.

"Eeep!" she let out, slamming her hands down over her chest before bolting back up the stairs, propelled by a cascade of rose petals even as Jaune found his coffee mug the most fascinating thing in the universe. Yang merely chuckled through a smile before closing the fridge and sitting down again.

"Now that we've got a minute, Jaune, you're gonna tell me what's going on between you two."

"Nothing, I swear!"

"What? Is she not pale, skinny and/or bitchy enough for you?" Yang fired back, pressing her advantage.

"Ruby's my friend, Yang. You can compliment a friend without it being...like that," he said, studiously avoiding the word _sexual_.

"Uhhhh-huh," Yang replied, clearly not buying it.

"Weren't you the one who complimented Blake on that sweater she wore last winter? How it 'really brings out how beautiful her eyes are'? You didn't hear me asking you when we'd be hearing wedding bells, did you?" he asked, silently breathing a sigh of relief when Yang's facade faltered in response.

"I was trying to get her away from being so monochrome all the time. I can't _always _be the splash of color in the room."

"And _I_ was trying to reassure a friend, okay? I get it, you're protecting her, and you and the rest of your family will castrate me with rusty spoons if I even so much as _think _about her that way."

"I never said that," Yang said, getting a doubtfully raised blond eyebrow in response. "I never said _exactly_ that," she muttered. "Anyway, you'll get that and worse if you _hurt_ her, dumbass."

"Wait, what?"

"All I'm saying is that Ruby can do worse. Don't prove me wrong."

"I'm...wow. I never thought I'd hear that from you."

"You're a dork, and have some of the most ridiculous blind spots I've ever seen, but you're a good person, Jaune."

"Umm, thanks?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Jaune gave her a smirk in response, at last taking a sip from his mug. "This is good coffee."

"You expected otherwise?"

"I expected booze maybe."

"Not this early, no," she said with a smile. His banter was definitely growing on her, and represented a new level of difficulty in extracting a blush from the boy.

"You guys have anything planned for today?"

"Not really, why?"

"Well, I could use some help getting around town. I can't look up anything on my scroll, and I've got a lot of shopping to do."

"Oh? And what do _I_ get out of the deal?"

"You ever had tarte tatin? That bakery we stopped at yesterday said they'd make me some."

Yang had to stop herself from repeating the joke from the day before regarding the long, thin baguette he'd shared with them, at least grateful for the minor expansion of her culinary horizons. Who knew that simple bread could be so damn _good_? "All right, sold. But we've got things to do around the house before we can go pokin' around town."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Yeah, let Zwei out while I clean up in here?" she said, indicating last night's dinner dishes with a nod of her head.

"You don't have a dog door?"

"Used to, 'til Dad found a baby Nevermore in the living room one day. I still say it came down the chimney, but _nooooo_," she moaned, complete with eyeroll, "Dad had to board up the dog door instead. Guess who had to clean up the mess when someone _else_ wasn't _fast_ enough to let him out?" she growled.

"Well, it wasn't really _Ruby's_ fault, now was it?" he asked, getting a high velocity dish towel to the face as a reply. "All right, I'm going. Come on, Zwei," he called, tossing the towel over the back of his chair, the dog's stubby legs working overtime to carry him to the back door as Jaune opened it for him. He took a moment to watch the little corgi run ten yards from the house before he commenced sniffing any and everything he could find, as if he didn't know how any of it had come to be in his domain. Jaune smiled at the energetic dog, taking a few steps to retrieve Crocea Corax from the coffee table before he joined Zwei outside for some early morning peace and quiet.

Patch was a beautiful island, he had to admit, the warm breeze ruffling his hair gently as he sat on the stoop to keep an eye on a dog that by all indications didn't require it. How Zwei had managed to tear that Beowolf to shreds during the Breach of Vale, he couldn't say, outside of the obvious answer of 'teeth and aura', but he'd seen it first hand. He set down his sword scabbard-point first, resting his left hand on the hilt as he sipped at his coffee. The breeze caught the Tigan pommel cord, the blue leather braid swaying slightly in response. The motion caught Jaune's eye, and he watched it for several moments before his focus went past it to a small maple tree on the edge of the Xiao Longs' unfenced back yard.

Zwei had his front paws on the trunk, his attention focused up into the branches, his ears perked up adorably. Jaune couldn't see what had gotten the dog riled up, but knew from his posture that Zwei wasn't likely to leave without the issue being resolved, and thus he ambled over, grateful for Aura protecting his bare feet from the occasional sticks and sharp rocks.

"Whatcha got, Zwei?" he asked, before a frantic rustling preceded a large crow erupting from the treetop, wheeling about once before making a beeline back towards and over the house before passing out of sight. "Good job protecting us from the scary bird, buddy," he praised the corgi with mock enthusiasm, Zwei's only response an open-mouthed tilt of the head, a pink tongue lolling out as he panted. Jaune dropped into a squat, offering Zwei another ear scratch, which was gladly accepted for several long moments. Resting his sword across his thighs, he reached down with his free hand, plucking a few black feathers off the ground. He regarded them carefully, eyes narrowed as he contemplated his find. Jaune's face was pensive for a long moment before he looked at his pommel cord again, the one true ornament in his entire ensemble, now that he'd lost Pyrrha's sash. The corner of his mouth ticked upwards barely as an idea struck him, and he stood, sword and feathers in hand as he walked back to the Xiao Long cabin.

He sat on the stoop, his attention split between his weapon, and his charge, working with fingers unaccustomed to dexterous tasks. A few minutes later, he admired his handiwork, the loose feathers now with their shafts woven into the tail end of the blue leather, adding even more flair to the tassel already present. Zwei dashed up then, scratching at the door fervently, a loud whine of frustration coming from the dog after several seconds.

"All right, hold on," he said, standing again and opening the door. He could hear Ruby's excited voice, the high tone unmistakeable even as he couldn't quite make out the words, and he followed Zwei into the house.

"..believe you're here!" he finally made out, rounding the corner and finding the scene of a touching reunion. Or it would be if he didn't feel immediately on edge at the sight of the grizzled, cyclopean Huntsman currently being weighed down by a patented Ruby Rose tacklehug.

"Well, I was just passing through, and... Oh hey, I thought you were in Vale, T…" Qrow Branwen began, before realizing just who _hadn't_ entered the room. "Who the hell are you?" he rasped out coolly, his easy smile fading..

"Oh! Jaune! This is my Uncle Qrow!" Ruby volunteered eagerly, her grip loosening on him a bit. "He taught me _everything_ about how to fight!"

"Jaune...Arc?" he asked, making an educated guess.

"Yeah?" he replied coolly.

"Huh. Guess you aren't dead after all," he said with a shrug. "Yeah, I know. It sucks. Been there, done that."

"What?" Jaune asked, his mood broken in the confusion.

"Explaining to people that you didn't actually take a dirt nap," he replied, clearly speaking from personal experience.

"It does get old pretty quick," he conceded, taking in the ragged cape slung over his shoulders. It was no mystery who had been Ruby's inspiration for so long.

Yang passed her uncle a mug of coffee, and Qrow finally managed to dislodge the silver-eyed limpet from his arm to accept it gratefully, pulling out his hip flask and adding a heavy snort of some pale yellow liquid to top it off. Ruby straightened out her combat skirt-and-blouse ensemble as he took a sip, thankful to not be poking eyes out anymore, even as Jaune's eyes narrowed at Qrow's addition to his coffee. The grizzled huntsman's sole remaining eyebrow crooked up ever so slightly at the attention before Jaune's gaze slipped off of him and over his shoulder, the dust crystal-capped staff leaning against the wall in the hallway hauntingly familiar somehow.

"So how long are you staying this time?" Yang asked, hopping up on the countertop.

"Just passin' through, firecracker. Figured I'd swing by and check in on you two before we headed out. Maybe spend the night."

"Where are you going?" Ruby asked.

"'Fraid I can't tell you, pipsqueak. One o' those need to know things," he added, favoring his niece with as roguish a wink as he could manage while wearing an eyepatch.

"Oh."

"We?" Jaune queried, the two sisters obviously not part of his entourage for whatever errand he was on. Before Qrow could respond, the group heard the door to the downstairs bathroom open, a caramel-skinned woman walking out with a relieved smile on her face. Her shoulder-length hair curled inward at the ends, her beauty only slightly dimmed by the extensive spiderweb of dark scars covering the left side of her face.

"Yeah, this is my friend…" Qrow began, the briefest of hesitations heard as he either tried to remember or concocted a cover identity for his companion on the spot.

"Amber," Jaune said, a tone of pleasant surprise on his tongue.

Everyone in the room noticed the tension spike in Qrow's posture, his right hand flinching towards the hilt of Harbinger, visible over his right hip. Jaune's own reflexes sprung to life in response, the nearly forgotten sword in his left hand tilted hilt-forward, ready to be drawn.

"Have we met?" Amber asked hesitantly, stepping forward to stand between Qrow and Jaune, her left arm barring her bodyguard's path forward.

"Yes. But I guess you really weren't aware at the time."

Qrow blinked once before relaxing. "Oh. Yeah. Oz told me about that."

"It's good to see you awake."

"It's good to _be _awake," she replied through a beleaguered smile.

"I just wish I'd been able to help more," Jaune said softly.

"Oz said you did, kiddo. No sense beating yourself up over it."

"Yeah, that's _my_ job," Yang interjected helpfully.

"Yaaaaang," Ruby growled in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyone want some breakfast? We _were _gonna take Vomit Boy here into town and grab something at Saleen's," she began, the small restaurant in Port Arcadia having been a family favorite for as long as she could remember, "_buuuuut_, I'm guessing you're laying low?" she asked of her uncle, getting a rough grunt of acknowledgement in return.

"What do we have in the fridge?" Jaune asked. "I'm not my mom, but I make a mean omelette."

"I think we've got some eggs, what else you need?" Yang queried.

"Cheese, for starters. Butter, maybe some veg, any kind of breakfast meat will work. Anyone allergic to anything?" he asked of the group, remembering growing up with Ivy's dairy sensitivity whilst getting non-committal shrugs from everyone present. "Lemme see what I'm working with," he said absently, placing his weapon on the table as he walked over to the refrigerator. He hissed softly when his feet met the chilly tile floor, stepping back towards the living room. "On second thought, let me get my shoes on."

"Sorry, the fridge is on the fritz again," Yang said as he retreated to the living room again, apologizing for the ice dust leak.

A pair of socks was easy enough to find, as was his right boot, but the left proved elusive. A frustrated growl left his throat, his gaze darting about the room in increasing irritation until he found the footwear in question sequestered under the coffee table. Dragging the boot out from under the table, Jaune grumbled again, the handiwork of a very toothy dog apparent around the top edges. Rather than make a scene over boots he was planning to replace anyway, he sat down on the couch, slipping his footwear on and ignoring the traces of drool as best he could. Already formulating a rough menu in his head, his train of thought was almost instantly derailed as his gaze came up and found Amber standing just inside the living room, her back to the kitchen.

"Hey," he said, a little unnerved at how quietly the woman had moved. Made sense if she was one of Ozpin's agents, he supposed. The enigmatic Headmaster had the damnedest habit of showing up unannounced and precisely where he could do some good.

"Hello. Jaune, right?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, that's me. Jaune Arc," he stated, forgoing his customary introduction for the sake of simplicity. That, and not embarrassing himself yet again.

"You said that you helped me when I was...sick. I asked Qrow, but he doesn't know the specifics."

"You're wondering what I did," he said quietly, nerves threatening to overwhelm him.

"Yes," Amber replied softly.

"My Semblance…" he began, trying to find a way to describe something so abstract even _he_ didn't understand it fully. "I can amplify aura. Heal people who have theirs unlocked. The first time I did it, it was like...blowing on the embers of a dying fire, trying to will it back to life. She was dying..._dead_ basically. And I managed to bring her back. She was the first, but not the last. Every person I've healed has been much the same way. I can also boost the aura of people who are healthy, but that's a lot easier, like throwing fire dust on a campfire that's already roaring. But you…" he trailed off.

"I was different."

"Yeah. I reached out, and felt so..._jumbled_. Like looking at a shattered mirror."

"Fractured," she said softly, her eyes misting over.

Jaune looked up into her eyes again, taking a moment before speaking. "Yeah. Good a word as any, I guess. It was like someone had just run up and kicked the fire around. The logs were still burning bright, but there was no center to it. The light was scattered, casting weird shadows everywhere. Honestly, I don't know how, or even _if_ I accomplished anything." He paused again. "What happened to you?" he asked, his voice conveying concern and confusion in one tidy package.

"I was...attacked. After that, I don't know. All I have are glimpses of what was. _Who _I was. You know I can't remember my mother's face? If I even knew her," she added, her light brown eyes closing, forcing a tear to trickle slowly down her cheek.

Jaune stood and walked slowly to her, taking Amber's hands in his own. "You're still here, though. That's gotta count for something, right?" he reassured her, letting his Aura bloom ever so slightly. Pyrrha had seemed almost euphoric when he'd used his Semblance on her the one time they'd experimented with it. Yang had been rather giddy as well, but he couldn't exactly trust her to be truthful on the subject. And so, he allowed his Aura to flow into the touch they shared, trying to help Amber feel better about her situation. The pale glow was barely visible, and went unnoticed by him in the face of her unexpected reaction.

Her eyelids snapped open, her gaze locking onto his own as a fiery aura sprung to life over her eyes.

"That's never happened before," he said nervously.

"You," she whispered.

"Umm…"

"It was _you_," she continued, ignoring him completely it seemed. Before he could voice another word, Amber stepped forward and embraced him fiercely, Jaune's hands frozen awkwardly in midair. "You were my anchor," she whispered into his collarbone. "All that time in the hospital, trapped in my own head. I remembered what you told me. That I needed to come back. I needed to come back…"

"To the people that care about you," he finished for her. "I didn't know that you'd heard me."

Amber stifled a sniffle as she clung to him. "I did. And I remembered. Every time it felt like I was going to slip away. Every time that I heard the doctor say that I wasn't getting better and I couldn't scream at him that he was wrong. You were there. Just on the edge of perception. I didn't know your name, couldn't see your face. But your words stayed with me."

"I...I'm just glad I could help," he said, relieved of a concern he hadn't thought of in a while. He just hoped she wouldn't ask him anything else about that day.

"Okay, we've got a couple onions and a bell pepper, is that...enough?" Ruby asked, trailing off as she came into the room.

With a start, Jaune realized that his left arm had come to rest in the small of Amber's back, and he let her go. The both of them looked at Ruby, an awkward pause taking over the room before Amber likewise broke her embrace, looking between Jaune and Ruby for a moment before she mumbled an apology and brushed past Ruby to head back to the kitchen. Jaune was left mystified, both by Amber's reaction, and the confused, almost _hurt_ look on his friend's face.

"Soooo, you two know each other, huh?" she asked, her eyes finding the floor.

"Not really. I mean, sort of?" he scrambled, trying to figure out what he'd done wrong this time. "Amber's...kind of in the same boat as you, Ruby," he began, pausing again as he collected his thoughts. "I don't know if you remember, but when you were in the hospital, Headmaster Ozpin came to see us. He said he needed to borrow me?" he added, seeing a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as she met his gaze again. "Amber's why. She was in a coma, and they couldn't find a way to bring her back. I tried using my Semblance, but it didn't seem to work at the time. I guess I still helped, from what she told me."

"Oh. Okay," she replied, the worry falling from her shoulders.

"You okay, Ruby?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Was just kind of surprised to find you two like that."

"Okay," he replied, letting the matter drop for now. "You know how to cook?"

"A little," she said, even if they both knew it was largely limited to baking cookies.

"Awesome! You get to help. Come on," he added, walking back into the kitchen, a conflicted Ruby Rose in tow.

The two of them, with Yang's occasional help (and pranks), began working on throwing breakfast together, bacon crisping in the oven as Jaune beat eggs into fluffy perfection. Qrow and Amber sat at the table, relaxing with cups of coffee in their hands.

"So where did you manage to find a Tigan weapon braid, kid?" Qrow asked, eyeing the pommel of Crocea Corax.

"It was a gift from Casian Râuri. He's the one who reforged Crocea Corax, and built Liv's weapons."

"Oh my gosh, those things are so _cool_!" Ruby chimed in. "I mean, not _Crescent Rose_ cool, but…" she amended, afraid of offending her baby.

"A gift, huh?" Qrow retorted suspiciously. "Tiganii aren't known for being the generous sort."

"They're known for a lot of things, actually. I've found that almost all of them aren't true. Except for the fact that they're devoted to their families. I saved his son's life," he stated matter-of-factly. "After that, he kind of adopted me. I think," he amended, still not entirely certain of the dynamics involved.

"Huh, first time for everything I guess."

"So what's with the feathers?" Yang asked of the new additions.

"Oh that? Funny story actually. I found them outside this morning when I took Zwei for his potty break. Crow feathers, I think."

"Oooh, someone's got a fan club!" Yang quipped, winking at her uncle. What she failed to notice was Jaune's teeth gritting briefly in irritation at the insinuation.

"Crows are kind of a guide animal to me," he corrected her gently.

"Look at Vomit Boy getting all spiritual on us."

"Remember initiation? The end of it, at the bridge?"

"Yeah?" Ruby piped up.

"Well, we'd just gotten done with that Deathstalker, and we're all just kind of collapsed on the ground in relief. Except Pyrrha, because of _course _she wasn't even winded," he added with a playful eyeroll. "So we're sitting there, watching you guys fight, when out of the corner of my eye, I see what I think is a baby Nevermore, red eyes and everything, perched on top of one of the pillars. I figure I'm going to try and at least contribute _something_ to the fight until I take a closer look. Turns out it was just some raggedy old crow. Looked like it'd gotten hit by a truck, from all the missing feathers. Damnedest thing was, it was just watching the fight, like the rest of us were."

Unseen by the busy teenagers, Amber raised an eyebrow at Qrow, getting his patented 'I'm protesting my innocence because of course I did it, because I'm cool like that' look in return, complete with the self-point of the finger.

"That's kinda flimsy, not gonna lie," Yang cut in.

"That's just it, though. That was the _first_ time."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There were a few times I swear I saw that same stupid crow in a tree outside the dorms, usually on your side of the building, but sometimes on ours. I mean, there's no way it could be the same bird every time, right? Anyway, I'd never really thought about it until the Breach. We were clearing the perimeter, trying to keep containment around Liberty Square, when I saw it again. Circling the area like it was looking for something. I guess it found what it was looking for, 'cause it dove out of sight around a corner. Our area was secure, so I decided to go take a look. I know, crazy, right?" he asked, continuing to whisk away at the eggs.

"So I get to the corner and take a peek, and there's Cinder, Emerald and Mercury, interrogating a White Fang soldier who survived the train crash. I asked if they needed help, and I guess I distracted them long enough for the Fang guy to pull a rifle from Gods know where. I swear, I didn't see that thing until he whipped it out. Mercury took him down _hard_, ends up killing him. Damn near kicked the dude's head off his shoulders. He was cleared, of course. Self defense against a terrorist combatant. After everything with those three, I'm stuck wondering if that's what actually happened. I look away from the gore, and that same damn bird is sitting up in a tree, watching everything."

"Okay, that's just a little creepy," Ruby said with an awkward scowl.

"Oh, it gets better. A few weeks later, I'm just walking out of the locker room, Cardin's right behind me, bragging about my impending ass-kicking. We pass Yatsu and Fox on their way to the showers along with those two guys from FNKI, Kobalt and Ivori, I think their names were? Their teammates are following after them, just got out of a super tight full team match. There's this massive explosion, from when the Dust magazine went up. Half the damn building falls on us. Only thing I remember is Coco and Velvet yanking me and Cardin clear as it all came down. The dust starts to settle, and I look around and find a total nightmare. That faunus girl, Neon? A girder dropped on her after she dove clear of most of the debris. Cut both of her legs off at the knees. She's bleeding everywhere, so I pull the tourniquet from my belt pouch, the _one thing_ I'd managed to remember from Port's class, and get it on her. Me and her partner, Flynt, end up using her nunchucks and his tie as a tourniquet on her other leg; saved her life," he said softly, taking a deep breath before he continued solemnly.

"The ringing in my ears starts to go away, but I wish it hadn't. Coco is yelling at the rubble, trying to dig into it, but it's too much for her. She must have been really low on Aura from their match. Velvet...I can _still _hear her screaming," he added with a shiver. "She knew, somehow. She knew that Fox and Yatsu were gone. All four of them. Flynt didn't say anything, but I think he knew too. He was just too busy with Neon to let it show. Cardin's arm was pinned under five tons of concrete, so he wasn't going anywhere either. The only thing I could think of was finding Goodwitch, so I told Coco what I was doing and ran out of there like a bat out of hell."

"Panic was everywhere. Nobody knew what was going on. I got back to the arena, but she wasn't there. Once I got out onto the quad, I ran into Yang, who told me about the attack, and told her the locker rooms were a lost cause. Neither one of us had any idea where any of the professors were, and she didn't know where Ruby was either. Then there was an explosion in the auditorium. We could see that a good chunk of the dome was collapsed, with rubble in front of the west entrance. I was going to head to the south entrance instead, but then I saw that damn bird again. It circled low from the south back to the west before darting into the building through a broken window. We only found out later that the explosion had collapsed the south lobby. If we'd tried to go in through there, we..._I_ wouldn't have made it in time," he concluded, his voice hoarse as he teared up. "It's crazy and weird, I know. I'm just glad I convinced Yang to come with me somehow."

"You _did_ say I wouldn't believe you if you told me," Yang remarked wryly. "_Still_ don't by the way."

Jaune simply sighed, suddenly registering that he'd dropped his whisk into the eggs. Hesitantly, he looked up, worried about Ruby's reaction to his tale more than anything. To find out that your very life had hinged on the slimmest chance of a goofy friend interpreting some esoteric sign from the Gods correctly was sobering to say the least. Her face was blank, pale and staring straight ahead for a long moment before she blinked once, shifting her gaze to meet his with the barest hint of a smile on her lips. Without another word, she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his abdomen and squeezing herself tightly to him.

"Thank you. For being _you_," she whispered. "If you weren't 'crazy weird Jaune', I wouldn't be here."

"Well, if it wasn't for you and a couple others, I don't know that _I'd_ be here, Ruby," he replied though a smile.

"All right, you two. Less lovey dovey and more breakfast," Qrow reminded them gently.

"Yeah, you two can go suck face later," Yang added helpfully, getting a grumbling scowl from her sister and a peeved look from Jaune as they stepped back from each other.

The omelettes came together quickly, filled with grilled peppers and onions to accent the simple cheddar cheese within. Ruby manned the toaster, a good fit for her relative lack of skill in the kitchen, and soon the five of them were seated at the table with large platters of food to pass around as they broke bread. Conversation came easily, if sporadically, mouths full of food not well-suited to extended bouts of talking. Qrow updated his nieces on the less sensitive details of his recent travels, which were few and far between, and the girls babbled on about school for the most part.

"And _that's_ why our Jaune here is Vomit Boy!" Yang chirped at the end of one particular story.

"Damn, when _I_ call Grimm, at least I earn it."

"Call...Grimm?" Ruby asked.

Rather than explain, Qrow simply leaned over, miming a puking spell complete with frighteningly accurate sound effects. Yang erupted into raucous laughter, and even Amber giggled at his antics.

"Grooooosss," Ruby pronounced in disgust, while Jaune still stared daggers at Yang for bringing up that story yet again.

"This is a good omelette, Jaune," Amber complimented genuinely.

"Huh? Oh, thanks. Big family like mine, everyone has to chip in in the kitchen, especially when you've got so many different palates and diets."

"How is your mom these days?" Qrow asked.

"She's..._Mom_? Good, I guess. Probably gonna be furious with me," he muttered in chagrin. "You know her?"

"Long time ago, yeah. Back before she got married to your dad. She was one of the docs in the trauma ward at Beacon. Used to call her Doctor Vampire."

"Huh?" Ruby blurted.

"Mom always insists on getting a blood sample. For _anything_. Told me once she lost one of her first patients to the Grimm Pox, back before the vaccine was widely available. Came in for a broken wrist, and was dead the next morning."

"Yikes," Yang added. "Guess that's why Signal was so anal about shot records."

"Probably didn't hurt that her maiden name was Leach," Jaune added with a smirk, earning a gigglesnort from all three girls.

Ruby and Jaune returned to their breakfast, a chunk of omelette and a glass of orange juice nearly finished off before Jaune's fork froze halfway to his mouth, Ruby's juice spraying forth in a literal spit take at her sister's next comment.

"So, did Jaune's mom ever suck anything out of _you_, Uncle Qrow?"

"Yang!" Ruby nearly screamed, blushing furiously even as Jaune fixed Yang with a glower that would have done Weiss proud.

Qrow read the room well, his experience in bars and taverns across Remnant telling him they were about three comments away from a literal brawl. "No, Yang. We had coffee a couple times, but that was it," he said, bending the truth only a hair. Hey, that was basically the truth with him these days, right?

"Gods, Jaune, I can't decide whether you'd be awesome or five kinds of messed up with _that_ for a father, to be honest," Yang shot back, taking a shot at a man she knew well the vices of. Her generally even treatment of him, Qrow and Ruby was what was keeping Jaune's temper at least halfway in check, and her sister from leaving the table out of sheer embarrassment. Qrow rolled with the punches as always, fixing his eldest niece with a smirk.

"Well, even if you're not _actually_ my kids, you two turned out all right."

"Oh, so I'd have a crippling cookie addiction and an obsession with punching guys in the junk?" Jaune quickly added.

"Hey!" both girls protested vehemently.

Amber could only offer a melancholic smile at their antics, faint slivers of memory of her own family only barely visible through the everpresent fog in her mind. For the first time since she could remember, she felt like she was _home_. Playful sibling bickering was something that struck a chord with her, and she knew she had to have a brother or sister out there somewhere.

If only she could remember their face.

She started out of a trance as she felt a hand on her arm, Ruby nudging her gently with a look of concern on her face. "Miss Amber? You okay?"

"Oh, sorry. Just lost in thought for a moment. What was the question?"

"I was just wondering how long you and my uncle have been..._working_…together," Yang said with a knowing smirk. "I mean, I've never seen him bring home a woman before, so you must be pretty special."

"It's not like that, firecracker," Qrow averred. "Strictly business. And we've known each other for about five years."

"Wow. And here I thought you were mister love'em and leave'em."

Qrow leveled a withering gaze across the table at her, still effective despite the missing eye.

"Well, I guess _you _come by it honestly then," Jaune nimbly slipped into the line of conversation.

"Oh, _you're _one to talk about relationship issues, Jaune," she snapped back, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Meaning?" he retorted, his woeful attempts at romance having already been discussed ad nauseum during breakfast.

"Didn't your dad tell you? You're supposed to warn your friends if you start dating the yandere."

"What are you…?" he asked, trailing off as the blood drained from his face.

"Yang?" Ruby chimed in, worried at her sister's tone _and_ Jaune's visible fear.

"Oh, he didn't tell you about his last girlfriend being jealous of all the time you were spending with him?"

"Yang. Don't," Jaune said with a quiet, icy calm.

"What is she talking about?" Ruby asked, now thoroughly bewildered as to what was going on with the conversation.

"Just that time he spent playing tonsil hockey with Emerald Sustrai."

The only sound that could be heard after that statement was several pieces of flatware clattering to their plates, Jaune and Qrow's focus shifting fitfully between each other and both sisters in turn. Yang's face was a cocky grin, while Ruby's looked like someone had murdered Zwei.

"What?" she said softly, her brain still not registering everything yet.

"She kissed me once, obvious to me now that it was a distraction, as I made _crystal fucking clear_ to your sister," Jaune growled menacingly. "I'll tell you more later, Ruby."

"Umm, okay," she replied quietly, seeming to shrink inward, fingertips scratching subconsciously at her scars.

"Okay, kids. Let's try and stay calm about this," Qrow began, wholly unused _and _unsuited to the role of peacemaker. "Say, the more I think about it, the more I think we'll spend the night here after all. Ruby? Why don't you help Amber get settled in upstairs? Put her in your dad's room for now, I guess."

"Okay," she said, glad for an excuse to leave the kitchen. "This way, Miss Amber."

Ruby waited the few moments it took for her to collect her small pack and weapon from the hallway before leading Amber up the stairway, Zwei's Ruby-sense tingling enough to get the pup clambering up the stairs after them. The short hallway was somewhat bare, populated only by the few family pictures that Taiyang Xiao Long could stomach seeing on a daily basis. The pair ended up in Tai's bedroom without further ado, Ruby rocking back on her heels as the isolation she felt in having to deal with an unfamiliar face solo made its presence felt.

"So, umm, bathroom is through there, and I guess everything else is pretty self-explanatory...This is the door to the hallway, and...well, yeah, that's pretty stupid to point out when you think about it," she nervously added.

"Thank you, Ruby," Amber said with a gentle smile, setting her pack on the bed before turning around to face the nervous girl. "And I'm sorry."

"Oh it's no big deal, really. Lots of Dad's friends come to visit sometimes. Okay, maybe not a _lot_ of them, but…"

"I was talking about Jaune," she cut in softly. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression."

"Huh?"

"He's special...I guess you'd know better than anyone, wouldn't you?" she added with a smile.

"Well, duh. He's, like, my super best friend. Well, him and Weiss are tied, I guess. _Don't tell her I said that_," she whispered, silver eyes darting around in fear of her partner having somehow heard Ruby comparing her to Jaune in any way.

"Mum's the word," Amber replied with a conspiratory wink. "So how long have you two been together?"

"Well, we met on the first day of school last year, and we've been…" she trailed off, her cheeks aflame as she realized exactly what she'd been asked. "We're not like, you know, _together_ together," she muttered nervously before the shock set in, her eyes going wide. "Oh, Gods, tell me I'm not Nora! I don't even _like_ pancakes."

"Nora?"

"Jaune's teammate. Her and her partner are like, the most obvious couple ever, but neither one of them want to admit it."

"Do you _want_ to be with him?" Amber asked softly, trying to calm her host down through a soothing tone of voice.

"I just want to be the greatest Huntress Remnant has ever known, like my mom was. Kick butt, take names, all that jazz. All that...boy...stuff? I don't know. Maybe, some day. Besides, his partner is over the moon for him. She's so sweet, and kind, and strong, and beautiful. I'm just some fifteen year old _kid_ who nerds out over weapons and eats her own weight in cookies every week," she muttered bitterly.

"But they're not dating?"

"No. I don't know how much more obvious Pyrrha could be, but he's never picked up on it," Ruby said, her voice sounding sad for reasons even she couldn't identify.

"I take it talking to your sister about this isn't an option?"

"Oh, _hell_ no. She keeps insisting I've got this massive crush on Jaune, and then threatening to punch him in the...well, you know."

"I hadn't noticed," Amber deadpanned, getting a soft chuckle from Ruby. "What's he like? I can't say that I've gotten to know him, not really."

Ruby thought for several moments, trying as best she could to not go running off at the mouth much like she could on the subject of armaments. "He's...comfortable."

"That sounds..._odd_."

"Well... He was so worried about losing me that he unlocked his Semblance the day that I almost…" Ruby began, before her voice failed her.

"You must be very important to him," Amber prodded subtly. "I still don't see how that translates to 'comfortable'," she added, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"There was so much pain. I was scared, and cold. _So cold_," she whispered. "Then he touched me, and it all went away. It was like...getting caught out in the rain, and walking in the door to your house, and your mom's got a nice, warm blanket fresh out of the dryer. All you wanna do is just snuggle into it...wrap yourself up in that warmth and never let go," she finished, hugging herself tightly.

"You're smiling." Said smile vanished in an instant later, but the damage had been done, Ruby covering her blushing face with both hands. "Ruby? My head's a mess right now. There are so many things I'm missing the details of. People and places I can picture clear as day, but I have no idea who or what they are. Emotions I've felt, but I can't explain why. Experiences I've had, but I can't remember the details." Amber paused, gently pulling Ruby's hands down far enough to look into her eyes. "What I _can_ tell you? I've been in love before, and it felt a _lot_ like that. There are going to be moments that take your breath away, that make your heart pound in your chest so hard it hurts. Those come and go. But to be able to just be yourself around someone without fear? _That's_ something special."

"Normal knees," Ruby whispered so quietly she wasn't even sure she'd spoken.

"You're smiling again," Amber said through a broad smile of her own.

"Shut up," Ruby replied, her heart clearly not in it, judging by the fresh blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, hello there!" Amber said in surprise when Zwei leapt up onto the duvet beside her, demanding attention.

"Sorry, he's kind of an attention whore," she apologized, before her smile evaporated at the distant sound of raised voices coming from downstairs. "Crap. I hope nobody's put a hole in the wall again," Ruby grumbled.

"That...doesn't sound good."

"My sister's got a temper sometimes. Lemme go see what's going on," she added with a sigh.

"I think I'll take the chance and grab a shower. You wouldn't believe some of the places we've been the last couple days."

"Okay. Gimme a shout if you need anything," she added before stepping back out of the room, a slight frown on her face as she stomped down the hallway. Descending the stairs, she was prepared for quite a few things, if she was being honest. But none of the hypothetical scenarios in her mind matched up with what she beheld.

Yang was nowhere to be seen, the kitchen door leading outside standing ajar the only clue to her whereabouts.

Jaune was against the wall at the base of the stairs, his deep blue eyes practically aflame as he stared down her uncle. The source of his ire was presumably Qrow's left forearm, braced against Jaune's throat but far from pinning him in place. And Qrow…

Qrow looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Uncle Qrow?" she asked hesitantly. "What's going on?"


	13. The Deepest Cut

**Chapter 13**

**The Deepest Cut**

Qrow's crimson gaze flicked fitfully back and forth between the two kids in front of him, his breathing steady as his only slightly-marinated brain worked feverishly to defuse the impending fight before it happened. Tai would never let him hear the end of it if they trashed the cabin. The slowly receding sound of boots on the stairs behind them was a countdown, further ramping up the tension in the room.

_Now to use just the right angle to get these kids talkin' instead of throwin' blows_, Qrow mused silently.

"All right, I don't know what's going on between…"

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Jaune hissed, unwilling to traumatize Ruby any further by making their argument loud enough to be heard upstairs.

_Mission accomplished. Have a drink_, Qrow, he grumbled to himself.

"Aww, come on, tough guy. Don't tell me some _words_ got under your skin," Yang scoffed.

"This isn't about me, and you damn well know it. She didn't need to find out about that at all, let alone you just slapping her in the face with it! How could you do that to Ruby?"

"She's a tough girl, she'll get over it."

"You trying to convince me? Or yourself?"

Yang paused a moment, the fire in her eyes dimming briefly. "All right, fine. I'll make it up to her, I always do," she said in exasperation.

"Until the next time, right, Yang? Because there's always a next time," Jaune retorted viciously, building up a full head of steam. "You always have to have the last word. You always have to get your laughs. You always have to be the center of attention. And for what? It's not like you don't have anything else to stand on. You're one of the best fighters in Beacon, let alone just our year! Why can't you be happy with that?"

"Now listen here, Vomit Boy, I wouldn't put up with this lecture from my dad…"

"Obviously."

"So what makes you think I'm not gonna pound you into paste for even trying?" she replied, voice rising to a growl.

"Because even if you could," he began, catching a rush of adrenaline as he saw her eyes go wide at the insinuation that she possibly couldn't, "You'd just prove me right. You have to have it your way, and to hell with anyone else, because they can just 'catch these hands', right?" he added, mocking another one of her catchphrases. "What's next? Shoving me into a locker for fun? Threatening to expose my school records if I don't do your homework?" he continued, the implications clear to her, if not her uncle.

_Maybe I can sneak out the window and pretend I was never here_, Qrow thought, his body tensed for when, not if, the first punch was thrown.

"Don't you dare compare me to him!" Yang fired back, her eyes shifting red in the span of a heartbeat.

"Then stop acting like him! Stop hurting the people I care about!"

"She doesn't need you protecting her! She's stronger than you think, and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you white knight for her. Just because your Semblance is _so_ special, you're not gonna swoop in and steal her away! Not on my watch."

"For fuck's sake, I'm not trying to get into her pants! What is it with you? Why do you have to go there in every conversation? Have you _ever_ had a normal relationship?"

"More than you, Vomit Boy," she cut back viciously.

"What, you have a boyfriend, but he's from Vacuo, so I wouldn't know him?" he asked, mocking the cliched trope.

"I've had plenty of boyfriends. And more girlfriends than you'll ever get."

"Oh, I bet," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "I'd also bet that none of those lasted more than two weeks."

"Well if they can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best," Yang replied immediately, clearly a practiced line from the mocking tone she put into it.

"That's a shitty reason, used by shitty people, to excuse shitty behavior," Jaune fired back, teeth clenched even as he could see flames flicker to life across her body.

"Who the fuck do you think…?" she growled before Jaune cut her off.

"The right way is to always give people your best, so that they'll be there when you're at your worst. I may not be the smartest student in Beacon, and I know for damn sure I'm not the strongest, but I still try to be the best friend I can be! The way you keep plowing ahead, without caring what damage you cause along the way? It's gonna get someone hurt someday. What are you going to tell Blake's parents, when your stubbornness gets her hurt? What happens when one of your selfish ideas puts _Ruby_ in danger?" he bulldozed on before stopping, the look of shock on Yang's face bewildering him for a few seconds before the realization hit him harder than an Ursa Major.

"That's already happened?!" he said, his voice equal measures of anger and horror.

_Oh, fuck me_, Qrow thought, the memories of that day written across his own battle-scarred face.

Jaune's gaze darted back and forth between niece and uncle, seeing the vastly different expressions on their faces and not liking either. Yang was an unholy amalgam of guilt and fury, whereas Qrow was showing obvious concern for his niece and more than a little anger towards him.

Not that he cared.

"I can't believe this," he muttered, his azure eyes wide.

"You don't fuckin' know me, Jaune," Yang growled.

"And whose fault is that?! Does anyone know you? Just this morning I got a peek behind the mask, and I didn't even recognize you! Why do you have to act so fake all the damn time?" he asked, Yang pushing out of her chair as her fingers threatened to crush the edge of the table. "Did you not receive enough love and attention as a kid? Mommy wasn't there enough for you?" he pressed on, standing to stay eye to eye with her.

Before she could respond, the sword tip of Harbinger landed on the table between them, neither one of them having heard the weapon's telltale ratcheting in their anger. "All right you two, that's enough," Qrow began, eyeing them both warily. "Why don't you go cool down, Firecracker? Let me deal with hothead here," he added, the dire implications clear in Qrow's narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you are _not_ taking his side!"

"I'm not taking anyone's side here…"

"Then why do _I_ have to…?"

"Take a walk, Yang!"

With only a sidelong glance for Qrow and a contemptuous sneer for Jaune, she turned about, stomping out of the kitchen and towards the yard. With a wordless scream, she slammed the door behind her with such force that it didn't actually latch. Qrow spared a glance at the still shaking back door, unsure of exactly what he'd gotten himself into. He retrieved his weapon, retracting it before he stowed Harbinger behind his back.

"Listen, I'm not gonna pretend to know what the deal is between you two, but I'm not about to let my friend's house get trashed because you two had a little temper tantrum," he rasped. "The only reason you're not in the hospital right now is I owe you one. I promised their mom I'd always look out for Ruby and Yang."

"I wasn't the one starting the fight," Jaune answered, his face set in a mask of mild disgust.

"And that's another thing. You've been giving me the stink eye since you walked through that door. Not that I particularly care, but it seems like it might actually be important for once."

"We've never met. How could I possibly dislike you, Qrow?"

"Oh, people have a habit of finding a way; guess I just have that kind of face."

"Apparently."

"Listen, kid. Yang's been through a lot, and yeah, sure, she's got a temper. But what you said to her is way outta line."

Jaune regarded him for a moment before answering. "But I'm not actually _wrong_, am I?"

The way Qrow let out a long sigh was answer enough for Jaune. "Not my point. You know her temper, and yet you still kept poking the Ursa. With a damn _chainsaw_. You were out for blood, and I wanna know why."

"You say that like it's out of the ordinary for me."

"I asked Yang about you, when I heard what you did for Ruby. She described you with one word. Harmless."

Jaune barely managed to hide the disgust he felt at the revelation.

"So something's changed, and you immediately went for the throat. Why?"

"A fight worth having is a fight worth winning," he said, idly wondering if Sensei would approve of him recalling the Animan proverb he'd been taught. Such musing was immediately crushed by regret and panic, much as his throat was now being crushed between the wall and Qrow's forearm.

"Who told you that!?" he demanded, his face inches from Jaune's, red eyes wide in shock.

"My...Sensei," he managed to gasp out.

"Who?" he asked, easing up just enough that Jaune could almost breathe.

"It's an old Animan..."

"I know what the damn word means! Who was it?"

"Someone who doesn't want to be found. Someone who I promised I wouldn't give up, no matter what."

"That's nice. News flash, kid: I don't give a shit."

"Good for you."

Qrow offered a witty riposte that consisted of a swift punch between the eyes that bounced Jaune's head off the wall. "You're about two seconds away from the morgue here, kid."

"And you're not scarier than my Sensei. At least they don't hit like a bitch when they're torturing me."

"Kid, you don't know what torture is. Yet," Qrow growled.

"Yeah, I don't know a lot of things. It's part of my charm."

"There are less painful methods for committing suicide, you little shit."

"Yeah, I hear drinking yourself into an early grave is fun," Jaune replied, earning a punch to the gut for his troubles.

"And you damn sure don't know me."

"Yeah...I don't," he said, trying to regain his breath. "You know what else I don't know? I don't know what it feels like being pinned down while my soul is ripped in half. I've never prayed for death just so the pain will stop. And I _definitely_ don't know what it's like to be left wondering why the one person who was supposed to keep me safe, the one who'd promised they'd always be there, _wasn't_. Maybe he was, oh, I don't know, balls deep in some bar skank? Sleeping off a hangover perhaps? Still piss-drunk? Knowing him? Probably all three."

The color drained from Qrow's face as the strength to hold Jaune against the wall faded entirely, his heart in freefall even before he heard Ruby speak.

"Uncle Qrow? What's going on?"

The both of them turned to face the stairs, finding her there with a look of apprehension on her face. Qrow and Jaune both deflated, feeling shame for letting her see conflict between them, and Qrow finally took a step back from interrogating the boy.

"You don't deserve her, Qrow," he said, barely audible even to him.

Qrow regarded him for a brief moment, his eyes narrowed as he took a deep breath to calm himself. Cutting his gaze back to Ruby, he spoke barely louder than Jaune. "Neither one of us do, kid, but there she is."

Jaune would have corrected him on the spot, but Qrow instead disengaged, slipping past Ruby on his way upstairs.

"What was that about, Jaune?"

"It...got ugly, Ruby. I was probably too harsh on your sister, and your uncle got pissed about it. I need to apologize to her, but not after I talk to you."

"What about?"

"Emerald," he said, wishing he didn't have to. Ruby's slight frown at the mere mention of the girl's name certainly wasn't making him feel any better about the whole affair. "She kissed me. Once. And I'm pretty sure it was something to distract me from whatever her team was up to. We never dated, and I promise I didn't know what she had planned. I just wish I hadn't been so surprised by it that I didn't ask questions. Like, why would a beautiful girl like her be interested in me? I should've known better," he muttered darkly.

"Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you think a girl would...like you?" she asked, barely avoiding a potential minefield of emotion for both of them.

"What, tall, blond and scraggly me? The guy who wore a onesie on Initiation night? The worst student in Beacon? The guy who by all rights shouldn't even be there?"

"You mean the best friend I've ever had? The guy who does everything he can for his friends? The Huntsman who, even if he shouldn't be there, still tries? That guy?"

Jaune couldn't help but smile just a little at that.

"Besides, I thought it was kinda cute. Which sister gave it to you?"

"Ivy. Saved up a hundred damn box tops. She said Vale got colder than Orleans in the winter. She's right, by the way. Even if she didn't understand everything going on at the time, I guess she's the only one who believed in me after all."

"I believe in you, Jaune."

He couldn't tell which caused him to start like he did, Ruby's words, or the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder. He covered her hand with his own, his smile growing as he looked her in the eyes, seeing nothing but Ruby's unbridled optimism staring back at him.

"Thanks."

"Us leaders gotta stick together."

"Yeah."

They shared a silent pause, taking a few breaths before Ruby pulled away, moving to take a seat at the table.

"So now that we've got that out of the way, what did you do to my sister?"

Jaune sighed in shame, taking a seat next to her and toying with a slice of buttered toast. He took a large bite out of it, buying time to compose his response as he chewed. "I probably said something I shouldn't have. I was angry, and lashed out, and crossed a line I didn't know was there."

"You were angry about her telling me about Emerald?"

"No. Well, yes, but that's not all of it. I found out something about her, about the both of you. That she'd put you in danger because of something stupid, and I lost it."

Ruby could only sigh in frustration at the revelation. "What did she tell you?"

"Well, nothing, really. I kinda blundered into it on my own. I was trying to get her to see how her stubbornness was going to get people hurt some day, and I got a lucky guess in."

"But you don't know the details?"

"No."

"I...I don't remember everything, but Yang told me the story. Dad doesn't like to talk about it. Neither does Uncle Qrow," she admitted sheepishly. "When Mom...disappeared," she said softly, choosing her words slowly and carefully. "Dad was a mess. I was four, and Yang was six. She'd found an old picture of _her_ mom," she added before she was interrupted.

"Wait. You don't have the same mother?"

"No. Yang's mother left right after she was born. She hasn't seen her since."

"Holy hell," he replied, leaning forward and bracing his forehead against his folded hands. "I...I can't even imagine…"

"I know. Me either," she conceded, idly plucking a strip of bacon off the platter at the center of the table and munching on it.

"What's the picture got to do with it?"

"Oh. Well, Yang recognized the cabin she was standing in front of. Uncle Qrow had taken her into the woods once and they'd passed by, I guess. So Yang decided to go looking for her mom there in the woods. Dragged me along because she didn't want to leave me alone in the house. I just knew I was going for a ride in my little red wagon with my big sister, ya know?" she added, and Jaune couldn't help but smile at the mental image.

"I'm guessing things didn't go well."

"No," she said flatly, her shoulders slumping a bit at the admission. "Two little girls alone in the forest, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Grimm."

"Got it in one."

"Wish I hadn't. I take it someone else showed up?"

"Yeah. Uncle Qrow had tracked us all the way from the cabin. Watching him in action was the greatest thing ever. Like getting to see X-Ray and Vav, but real," she said, barely suppressing a squeal. "I mean, he's not perfect or anything, but he's my hero."

"Even when he's trying to choke out your best friend?"

"What did you do?" she asked, almost immediately regretting it when she got a flat stare levelled at her for a long, awkward moment before he spoke.

"I recited an old Animan proverb; something my Sensei taught me. A fight worth having is a fight worth winning."

Ruby's eyes cut up and to her right for a moment before she made eye contact again. "Doesn't ring a bell, Jaune."

"Sensei said that it meant that if you are going to throw yourself into a fight, that you'd better be prepared to do whatever it took to win, or you were just wasting your time. Kick. Bite. Scratch. Go for the throat. Hit every weak point. Get in their head. That kind of thing."

"Sounds kinda out there, especially for you, Jaune."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just...you're one of the nicest people I know. I can't see you kicking someone when they're down."

"If that's what it takes to make sure he stays down, and doesn't come after me or the people I love, yeah."

"Even if they're a friend?" she asked, pulling him up short.

"Yeah, even if," he said softly, pausing to take a breath. "I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"A little, yeah," she whispered.

"Any idea where she might have gone?"

"If she's mad, I'd check the barn. Though you might wanna get dressed first."

"I'm not dressed?" he asked in confusion.

"Armor?"

"I thought you said the Grimm weren't really a...oh."

"Yeah," she replied with a grimace.

* * *

Qrow plodded up the stairs slowly, leaving his niece alone with a kid who'd managed to eviscerate him without taking a single swing. The picture he'd painted had been far too accurate to be mere coincidence. Guilt hung over him like a storm cloud, even if it was something he'd planned on addressing with Amber. Eventually. At some point. She was a good person, especially having to bear the burden of a Maiden, and Qrow…

He'd failed her.

There wasn't any sugar coating it, and an ocean of booze wouldn't drown his mistake either. It was so simple a thing, so trivial a diversion that he should have seen right through it. But he'd been tantalized by the prospect of finding Raven at the time that he'd allowed himself to be pulled out of position. That he'd gotten there in time was a minor miracle, even if it meant that Amber suffered silently for a year and a half rather than being killed outright and her power stolen by one of Salem's minions.

Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Qrow realized that he'd been standing outside the door to Tai's room for over a minute, and knocked on the slightly ajar door. "Amber?" he asked hesitantly, waiting for an answer that didn't come. He gently nudged the door open, cautiously looking around before he spotted her pack lying open on the bed. "Amber?" he called out again, only now recognizing the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

"Be out in a minute, Ruby!" she called back over the sound. Given the apparent noise differential, Qrow didn't bother to correct her.

"Hey, Zwei. How ya been, buddy?" he asked, scratching behind the dog's ears as he lay at the foot of the bed. Zwei gave off a low, rumbling sound as he rolled onto his back and stretched, now begging for belly rubs. "Attention whore," Qrow grumbled even as he acquiesced to the corgi's demand, taking a seat next to him. "You're lucky Ruby likes you." Thus occupied, his attention was elsewhere when the bathroom door opened, a cloud of steam heralding the arrival of the Fall Maiden like some cheesy music video.

Amber's head was bowed as she finished wrapping a second, smaller towel around her hair. The first, being from a man's bathroom, was hardly what would be considered 'large' by any sane person. "I hope your dad doesn't mind that I borrowed his razor, but my legs were just...eww," she said before stopping as her eyes rose to meet Qrow's. More accurately, she was looking into his eyes, while his, well…

Qrow sat, mouth agape, as his traitorous gaze roved over Amber's form. The towel she wore barely covered anything in its brevity, stopping just below the curve of her buttocks and just above her bustline. She'd also had to wrap the thing tightly just to get it to hold in place, which only amplified her modest bust to the point where she was nearly spilling out of the pale blue terry cloth. Qrow's lecherous side couldn't decide whether to focus on that, or long, slender legs the color of caramel. Anywhere but her scars, his lizard brain rationalized, the entirety of the damage on display with her hair up.

"You finished?" she asked, finally drawing his gaze away from a water drop slowly making its way down into the valley of her cleavage.

"I...yeah, sorry," he mumbled, his eyes finding the floor for the brief moment it took for him to turn away from her.

"We're going to be stuck together in close quarters for gods know how long, Qrow. Let's not get awkward about things, all right?"

"Yeah. I'd just forgotten how beautiful you are," he said before ducking his head under his shoulders. _Damn it, mouth, **why**_? he thought, even as silence took them both. _Maybe she'll just kill me instead of castrating me_.

"Even with this?" she asked of him, stepping in front of Qrow, a single fingernail pressing up on his chin, elevating his gaze to look her in the face. The dark, blotchy scar covered her entire left cheek, from her nose to her ear and all the way down to her jawline, with a smaller portion on her right. Her piercing light brown eyes regarded him warmly, a wan, hopeful smile on her face.

"Yeah," he replied softly, his gaze swinging wide right under her scrutiny. "I'm sorry, Amber. I screwed up, and you paid the price for it. I just…" he trailed off, barely registering the sensation of Amber taking a seat next to him on the bed. Slender, warm fingers traced over the back of his left hand before she squeezed down firmly.

"You didn't do this to me, Qrow. Cinder did," she reassured him, only knowing the name from a conversation with Ozpin.

"But…"

"No buts."

They sat in silence for several heartbeats, Qrow still avoiding her gaze.

"I'm not going to make that mistake again, Amber. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it then," she replied warmly, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "Let me get dressed, and then we can figure out what to do with the day," she said, moving to stand. Or, she would have, had Qrow's hand not had the misfortune of ending up resting on a corner of her towel. The unexpected tug backwards threw Amber off balance, and she crashed to the floor next to the bed, a disconcertingly loud bang heard as her head hit something solid.

"Scheisse!" she hissed, clearly in pain.

"Amber! Are you…" he trailed off, rounding the corner of the bed to find her lying on her back, knees bent and splayed apart, her hands clutching her head, eyes squinted shut. His eyes were wide at the sight, blinking rapidly as his mind tried to process what he wasn't seeing in front of him before he realized the towel was now dangling limply from his left hand.

_Guess she really put that razor to good use, huh_? he thankfully kept to himself. _No! Damn it, BAD Qrow!_ he rebuked himself. "Here," he said aloud, handing Amber the towel again, so that she could cover herself. Every nook and cranny, each and every delicious curve of smooth caramel, from the depths of the valleys, to the peaks of the hills, and... _DAMN IT, OTHER BRAIN_!

A slightly trembling hand grabbed the other end of the towel from Qrow, yanking it down to cover what she could in her vulnerable position. "Thanks," she mumbled, clearly chagrined.

"I'll just, uhh, wait outside, okay?" he muttered in response, taking his leave before she could burn him to ash where he stood.

Amber watched a bedraggled red cape sway gently as Qrow retreated, closing the door behind him. She couldn't tell whether or not she was glad that he couldn't see the bemused smirk on her face, but she still had to voice her opinion on the matter.

"Damn dumb bird."

* * *

Jaune looked back over his shoulder one last time, verifying that Ruby was watching from the back door to the cabin in case things went sideways, which was a distinct possibility if the noises he could hear from within the barn were any indication. Muffled grunts of effort and staccato bursts of impacts on something large and metallic rang out in the quiet late summer air as he peered around the edge of the door jamb.

Yang was working over a steel drum dangling from the rafters from a heavy chain. Every punch she threw caused the barest lateral movement, even as the surface appeared to ripple under her punishing blows. Each of these produced a small spray of water drops over the top edge of the barrel, a decently sized puddle underneath showing just how much work she'd already put in. Whether it was the water filling her punching barrel, or just her own exertion, Yang was drenched, her tank top and shorts clinging to her powerful body.

"Hey," he said just loud enough to make sure she'd heard him.

Yang turned her head, crimson eyes regarding him just long enough to refresh the mental image she was projecting onto the drum before she resumed hammering it even harder. "The fuck you want?" she growled between flurries of jabs.

"I want to apologize, Yang."

"You can't walk that shit back, Vomit Boy."

"No, I can't. All I can do is hope to show you how sorry I am."

"Not fuckin' likely."

Yang switched from simple jabs to one-two combos that followed the initial left jab up with a right cross, sending the object of her ire into a slow, oscillating spin. Jaune sighed at his failure, watching her work for nearly a minute, the barrel beginning to be almost unusable in its erratic motion. Setting his jaw, and making sure his Aura was shielding him, Jaune stepped forward, putting himself on the opposite side of the barrel and steadying it for her. Her assault paused for a moment before she began laying into the suspended Jaune surrogate with renewed vigor, water sloshing over the top and beginning to soak him as well.

"Do you have any idea how many lines you crossed?"

"Now I do, yeah."

"Then why are you even out here? You _want_ to die?"

"Not again, no," he quipped dryly. "And because I don't want this hanging over us, Yang."

"I've got a mother who couldn't be bothered to even change a diaper, let alone be a part of my life, and then my actual mom just walks out the door one day and never comes back. And _that's_ where you went?"

"I'm sorry, Yang," he quickly replied, cut off before he could say more by a thunderous punch slamming into the barrel. The impact split the heavy gauge rolled steel like a ripe melon on his side, a cascade of water soaking him from the waist down.

"No!" she shouted. "Not until you tell me why," she added, stepping around the ruined training implement and getting dangerously close to him.

"Why what?" he asked with as much calm as he could muster.

"Why did you turn into an asshole?" she demanded angrily.

"What? Just because I wasn't putting up with your shit?" he asked, his demeanor melting into pure incredulity.

"You aren't being you!"

"Because I'm done being the doormat, Yang!" he barked angrily, causing her to flinch back with her eyes wide. "You. Cardin. Weiss. Goodwitch. All the people who don't think I'm good enough. Strong enough. Everyone who thought I was just a joke. The comic relief. I let you all convince me. No more," he said with grim finality. "I'm standing up for myself, and for everyone I care about." For a moment, Yang couldn't find the words, shocked by his declaration and how he apparently felt about her.

How she'd made _him_ feel.

"I...Jaune, I'm your _friend_."

"That's the problem, Yang. You're not. You haven't been my friend for a while now."

Her eyes blinked once, lavender showing through once again as her face drained of color, aghast lips parted slightly before he continued.

"You're _family_," he clarified, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting over his lips. "I've had plenty of people who said they were my friends. Who I thought were friends. Never lasted. Friends move away. Move on. You have fights and lose friends. They do something to make you not want to be their friend any more. They were just being nice to you to get brownie points with your sister. Family is forever," he added, trying to get through to her. "No matter what you've done, Yang, I want you in my life. Ruby too. Pyrrha, Ren, Nora. Hell, even Blake and Weiss," he admitted sheepishly. "My life is better because of you all."

Yang paused to digest his words for a long moment before speaking. "Then what the hell was all that inside?"

"I was protecting my family, like you would in my place. At least I hope you would. Besides, you know family fights are the _worst_."

"Ain't _that_ the truth?" she groused softly, sighing as her eyes closed. "Listen…" she began, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You're hurt!" he interjected, blue eyes wide at the blood soaking through the knuckles of her boxing wraps.

"What? Oh, this? It's nothing," she deflected, waving Jaune off. "Aura'll have that fixed in an hour."

"Not before Ruby sees it. Let me take care of you, Yang." He only received a half-lidded gaze that spoke of smoldering anger for a reply, but Yang lifted her hands for inspection nevertheless. He gently went about removing the long strips of cloth from her hands, finding more to worry about with each turn of his hands around hers. "Geez, I think I see bone on that one," he muttered as he finally had a good look at the damage.

With a brief moment of concentration, he drew upon his Semblance, allowing a trickle of power to flow through him and into her. White and golden yellow mixed together before their eyes, the glow enough to be seen over the daylight filtering through the windows. He could hear Yang hiss softly as her flesh knit itself back together, but a quick glance up saw her meet his gaze and offer him a slight, but still grateful, smile.

"That's nice," she whispered, flexing her fingers to check for lingering pain and finding none. "Still, I can't believe you went and pumped your _sister_ full of your warm white essence, you naughty boy," she said with a sultry purr in her voice.

"One, _another_ sister, and two, weren't you offering to make out with your brother earlier? And now look at you; you're _drenched_." he shot back with a grin to match her own.

"Dork."

"Takes one to know one," he replied, the both of them chuckling for a long moment. "Come on, Yang. Let's get cleaned up so we can get to that shopping, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll take this mess down later, I guess," she said, turning and taking a couple steps towards the door before stopping. "Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"You...you know you're important to me too, right?"

"Yeah. I love you too, Yang," he replied with a soft smirk.

"Like a sister, right?"

"Ehh, more like this cat we had once. Really hissy and temperamental, but once you got past that, she was a sweetheart."

"Ass," she fired back through a smirk, closing in on him quickly enough that he flinched in response before she wrapped him in a fierce, but brief, hug. "Thanks for being my friend, Jaune. Just...let's try and not bring out the worst in each other again?"

"I can get with that," he said softly, letting Yang out of his arms again. "So, are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good. Gimme a hand?"

"With?"

Yang simply put a finger to her lips before looking to her side, a mischievous smirk taking over her lips before she darted to her right. She reached the door quickly enough to grab a now-squirming Ruby in her arms, lifting her sister's small frame with ease. "Sides of the ribcage, Jaune!" she ordered him, Ruby's eyes going wide at her sister's betrayal. She could only squeal in protest as he found the right spots immediately, his fingers practiced from endless tickle wars with his sisters over the years. Jaune, of course, ignored her protests, pressing on until her giggles became breathless and her pleas for mercy became more desperate.

"Meanies," she grumbled once she'd been set down, her cheeks flushed and her breathing labored.

"You know you love us," Yang beamed.

"Yeah, yeah. You two done killing each other yet?"

"Yeah, we're good, Ruby," he replied, cutting his gaze to Yang for confirmation and receiving it with a nod.

"Lemme go get showered and then we can go into town. Jaune wanted to pick up some tarts," she said, giving her sister a wink.

"The pastry, Ruby."

"I figured."

Yang trotted off, leaving the pair of friends standing in front of the barn.

"Are you two really okay?" she asked, knowing her sister well enough to see a possible front.

"I promise," he replied, giving her a warm smile that she returned after a moment.

"Okay. So, what do you wanna do for the next hour?"

"That long? Seriously? Violette would murder her!"

"Welcome to my world," she deadpanned. "Sooo, video games?"

"I mean sure, if you want your butt kicked."

"As if, Vomit Boy!" she scoffed, turning and walking towards the cabin. "I call Soaring Ninja!"

"The true tool of button mashers everywhere," he countered, more of a White Knight main himself. Even so, he couldn't help but smile despite everything that had happened today, and the situation he found himself in..

The location mattered not.

Jaune Arc felt like he was home.


	14. Perception

**A/N: **A thousand apologies for this taking so long. Holidays and a hospital stay for the wife didn't help either.

**Chapter 14**

**Perception**

Yang's eyes shut as the warmth and droning roar of her hair drier took over the confined space of the bathroom she shared with her sister. Her hands worked from memory, long accustomed to caring for the luxurious mane she kept in memory of the only mother she'd ever known.

For not the first time today, Yang stifled a twinge of heartache for Summer Rose, still missing the woman who had stepped in when her _actual_ mother couldn't be bothered to lift a finger. Her brain knew she shouldn't be so damned sensitive on the subject, but her heart had always burned brightly. Her greatest strength, and biggest weakness, and she wore it on her sleeve like a badge of honor. Hell, her Huntress emblem was a literal interpretation of it.

So while she understood that Jaune hadn't known precisely why his words had hurt so badly, it was still a transgression that she could not easily forget, no matter how much she might want to. His own grievances against _her_, she had to ponder further. There was a fine line between pushing someone to toughen them up, and abusing the weak, and she'd apparently crossed it without realizing where the line lay with Jaune.

The rational part of her mind knew that their chosen profession was dangerous, and that weeding out the non-hackers was clearly doing them a favor. Passing your exams and getting your license only to get killed by the first Grimm that you ran across was hardly a happy ending for the Huntsman or a benefit to the Kingdom that had invested the time and resources to train them.

Her emotions, however, were a jumbled mess.

He'd compared her to Cardin _fucking_ Winchester, for starters. That alone made her blood boil, but the reason for it nearly tore her heart in half. While Jaune certainly wasn't the best student, and socially inept to boot, he truly had the heart of a Huntsman. Apparently the backbone of one as well, given the morning's events. The fact that he hadn't died in his first year at Beacon with no prior experience was remarkable to say the least, even if you discounted having Pyrrha Nikos as a partner. Had she really treated him as a joke the whole time?

In a word, _yes_.

The nicknames, the teasing...hell, she'd actively encouraged his romantic pursuit of Weiss not because she thought he had a chance, but rather because annoying the stuck-up heiress was _funny_. Yang could only wonder why he hadn't snapped at her before this, and what exactly had changed in her friend. She still saw him as one, his own assertions to the contrary, and the notion that she'd done wrong by him wasn't sitting well with her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the odor of singed hair, and she realized she'd stopped moving long enough to overheat some of her treasured mane. Tossing away the offending device, Yang inspected the ends of her bangs, lilac eyes narrowing at the slight darkening of a small patch of hair.

"Shit," she hissed quietly, hoping that most of it would heal with some of her high-end conditioner, as the alternative was an amputation she was loath to perform. "It'll have to do," she mumbled to herself, standing up and shucking her towel. Hanging the damp terry cloth on its normal hook, Yang afforded herself a brief inspection of her nude self in the mirror, giving her reflection a knowing smirk. "Oh, yeah. I'd do me," she said saucily before going about the business of getting dressed.

Several minutes later, Yang bounded down the staircase, fully combat ready with Ember Celica gracing her wrists. Once she reached the living room, she saw that another form of combat awaited her, Jaune and Ruby going at each other like crazed weasels.

"Soaring Ninja wins!" said the announcer.

"That combo is such _cheese_!" Jaune grumbled.

"And turtling the whole match after you get a lucky hit in isn't?" Ruby retorted angrily.

"They still need to nerf that juggle starter."

"You're _still _on about that?"

"How long have they been like this?" Yang asked quietly of Amber, settling next to her on the loveseat.

"About half an hour. Is this normal?" she asked, leaning in conspiratorially.

"And when was the last time you logged in to patch your game?" Jaune asked accusingly.

"Pretty much."

"They broke fifty thousand more things than they fixed last time!"

"You going to stop them?" Amber asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You just don't want to play fair!"

"Nah. Let 'em wear themselves out a bit," Yang replied, speaking from experience.

"You just want to win!"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Of course I want to win! What's the point otherwise?"

"Where'd my Uncle Qrow wander off to?"

"He said he'd be back in a little while," Ruby piped up readily, managing to follow both conversations simultaneously. "Asked us to keep Amber company," she added, flicking her gaze briefly to a fully-deployed Crescent Rose leaning against the wall. Yang's eyes narrowed briefly in response, wondering what their uncle had gotten himself into this time.

"Oh...kay," she replied slowly, still unsure as to the proper course of action.

"Besides, she's nice, Yang!"

"All right, Rubes," Yang relented, getting up and walking over towards the kitchen, mussing Ruby's hair along the way and drawing a growling grunt of protest from her. "You want anything, Amber?"

"No, thank you, I'm…"

Without warning, a set of four perfectly timed and uniform knocks sounded from the front door.

"Is it just me, or was that the most professional sound you've ever heard?" Ruby asked.

"Are you expecting someone?" Jaune asked, seeing the tension in Yang's frame.

"Not until this afternoon, no."

Ruby's eyes went wide, an excited gasp escaping her lips. "They're early!" she chirped, bolting for the door, Yang following cautiously after.

The front door was thrown wide open by an excited Ruby Rose, revealing a tall, exceptionally well-dressed gentleman in a pale grey suit standing next to a large pile of matched designer luggage. Nearly concealed behind this was the slight form of Weiss Schnee, an eyebrow cocked dubiously at the rustic nature of the cabin for the split second it took her partner to lock on to her location and smother the girl in a stifling hug.

"Weiiiiiiissssss! Ohmygosh you're here! We're going to have so much fun, and I can't wait to tell you everything that's going on, and…"

"Can't...breathe," Weiss managed to gasp out, her face red in a combination of embarrassment and positional asphyxiation.

"Easy there, sis," Yang said warmly, unwrapping Ruby from around her partner. "Don't wanna overload the Ice Queen in her first minute, do you?"

"Nice to see you too, Yang," she offered sarcastically with a roll of her pale blue eyes.

"You know you missed us."

"In spite of myself, yes. Yes I did. Aaron, please ensure that _all _my luggage makes it out of the truck," she said, addressing her driver and the large, SDC-marked SUV parked a short distance away.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, going back to double check his work.

"You have more?" Yang asked with a smirk.

"Yes, and _try _not to knock any of them over, Ruby? I don't need a repeat of last year."

"Sorry," she said softly.

"I thought you weren't going to be here til this afternoon," Yang added, still nervous over the charge her uncle had left them with.

"Favorable tail winds."

"Wow, lucky us," Yang replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes nearly out of her skull.

"You know you missed me."

Yang gasped softly in surprise at Weiss' snark. "Yeah," she replied simply, giving Weiss a brief, sisterly hug. "Welcome to Chez Xiao Long!" she chirped with a smile and sweep of the arm.

"I'm actually surprised you pronounced that correctly, Yang."

"Yeah, well, I had help."

"Hey, Weiss."

"Jaune!?" Weiss gasped. Her eyes were wide at seeing a ghost in the flesh as it were, even one wearing that damned goofy smile of his. The armor was different, and his hair was a veritable disaster, not to mention his clothes, but it was undeniably _him_.

Jaune took in her appearance in an instant, the slate grey of her dress fading to a pale ash at the hem, a stark, mature contrast from her largely white combat skirt of the year prior. The long sleeves were skintight, unlike the bolero with flared cuffs she'd worn last year. Myrtenaster hung from her left hip, elegant and sharp as always and a perfect match to its wielder. The expression on Weiss' face, however, was conflicted, not to mention shocked beyond belief, and one ill-suited to her personality. It didn't look like _Weiss_. "The new dress suits you, Weiss. The pendant and earrings really bring out your eyes, Snow Angel."

Said eyes went wider still for a moment before her brow furrowed in anger, the soft dirt underfoot muffling Weiss' trademark angry heel clicks as she marched over to where he stood. _There she is_, he wisely kept to himself, even as a smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

"Do you have any idea what you've put everyone through?! I have half a mind to kill you _myself_ after all of this!" she began, a single, delicate finger pointed accusingly two inches from his chin.

"Weiss…" Ruby utterly failed to interject.

"Do you know what I had to do to devote SDC resources to looking for you? The scroll calls I've had to make? The political capital I had to burn? I even called in a favor from Neptune. _Neptune_, Jaune!" she growled with barely concealed distaste.

"Sorry, Weiss. Didn't know you cared so much about me," he stated flatly.

"You..._idiot_! Of course I care!" Weiss huffed angrily. "It's just...you had _everyone_ worried," she said after a brief hesitation, her expression beginning to soften before she remembered the reason for her ire once again. "And just where in the hell have you been?"

"Okay, executive summary. Jaune's not dead, he's been training in secret, he won't tell _anyone_ who or where, he only got back yesterday, and nobody knows besides us and the one sister here on Patch because the Vale CCT is down. I miss anything, Jaune?" Yang asked, nearly out of breath.

"I think that about covers it," he said with a shrug.

"I was wondering why my scroll wouldn't work when I tried to call you," she began absently. "Wait a minute, your _wife_ doesn't even…?" she began, aghast.

"Not married, yes it's mine, no I didn't sleep with my sister-in-law."

"Oh."

"Yeah, kinda forgot about that part, sorry," Yang added.

"This is already getting to be annoying," Jaune grumbled.

"Says the boy who wouldn't leave me alone for a whole _month_?"

"That's...fair. Still, I already apologized for that, Weiss," he said evenly, missing the slight downturn in Yang's smile.

"Yes, you did. You're still taking all this inside to make up for everything," she ordered imperiously.

"What's the magic wooorrrrd?" Ruby sang.

"_Now_," she growled in annoyance.

"Rude."

"I'll give you a hand, Jaune," Yang offered with a smirk for her fellow blonde.

"Really? Thanks!"

Yang gave him a polite golf clap in response.

"I...really should have seen that coming."

"Oh, lighten up, you," she replied, hoisting a couple of Weiss' bags herself and grunting with the effort. "What the hell do you have in these? An entire dust shop?"

"Just my essentials," Weiss retorted, a look of cool indifference settling over her face.

"Underwear, toiletries, weight set," Jaune listed off nonchalantly.

"Touch my lingerie and you start losing fingers."

"Come on. I've got sisters."

"And yet you have no clue with women."

"Yeah. Pretty ironic, really. It's good to see you again, Weiss."

She let out a sigh, carrying the last of her immediate anger with it. "I'm glad you're safe and sound, Jaune."

"Oh my gosh, you mean there's actually a human being in there after all, Ice Queen?" Yang quipped with a grin.

The angry growl Weiss gave off gave Jaune a reason to smile, as her ire wasn't directed at him any more. "You wanna give us a hand, Weiss?" he asked, getting a blank stare from her for several moments before she recalled where she was, or, more pertinently, where she _wasn't_.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she said, remembering that she was in the presence of friends, not _staff_.

"So when were you going to tell me Weiss was coming here?" Jaune asked of Yang as they started trudging up the stairs, ahead of Ruby and Weiss.

"As soon as you tell me all about where you've been all summer," she shot back playfully. "This was all Ruby's idea. Last chance slumber party before school starts up again."

"But don't you all sleep in the same room at Beacon?" he replied, puzzled a bit, even for Ruby Rose logic.

"Yeah, but it's not the same. I wouldn't expect a boy to understand."

"Ehh, whatever works, I guess. So that means Blake is coming too?"

"In theory, anyway. Scroll traffic to Menagerie is sketchy on a good day, so all we've been able to do consistently is text."

"Menagerie?"

"Yeah, visiting her family."

"At least you got to stay in touch. Yeah, I know. I told you, I tried."

"Pyrrha's gonna let you have it when she sees you."

"I'm more worried about Nora."

"Oof, yeah. If it's any consolation, I will respectfully mourn your kneecaps when the time comes."

"Such friends I've got," he replied through a grunt as they reached the top of the stairs. "Where are we going?"

"We'll just put this stuff in Ruby's room for now."

"Okay. I think five or six more trips should do it, huh?"

"I'd joke about throwing my back out, but Weiss Cream would just blame it on my boobs."

"I...no comment."

"Clever boy."

"I somehow doubt that, Yang," Weiss acridly chimed in as she stood in the doorway, the smallest of her bags in hand.

"Weiss," Ruby chided behind her, half buried under her load of luggage.

"Ugh, _fine_. Please be careful with the steamer trunk, it's got my Dust stores for first semester inside. That goes double for you," she said, fixing Ruby with a withering sidelong glance.

"Weiss, do you think you can move so I can set this down? _Please_?"

"How about we just leave what we can downstairs instead of risking bringing it up here?" Jaune asked. "Matter of fact, what all do you need for what, two nights?" he added, knowing that they'd be taking a shuttle to Beacon on Monday morning at the latest.

"Knees...buckling."

"Oh, just this valise," she replied cheerfully.

Yang's palm immediately found her face, a decidedly better choice than her fist finding her teammate's. Yang was nothing if not hospitable.

Jaune blinked once, fixing Weiss with an unamused, half-lidded gaze before Ruby unceremoniously collapsed under the weight of Weiss' luggage.

"Ow."

"Why didn't you say something, Ruby?" Weiss asked innocently. "Besides, if you insist on having everything upstairs, we can just have Jaune do it. It's one of the few things he's good at, after all. What?" she asked, blinking at the flat stare he shot back at her.

"You were joking, _right, Weiss_?" Yang asked, an edge in her voice.

"Just because it's more refined than your plebeian tastes doesn't mean I don't have a sense of humor, Yang," she scoffed before reading the mood of the two blondes, pale blue eyes slowly flitting back and forth. "Did I miss something?" she asked, her face showing concern and confusion.

"Yeah. A lot, actually. C'mere," Yang said, grabbing her by the shoulder and guiding Weiss to her own bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"What's _that_ all about?" Ruby asked from the floor.

"I don't know, Ruby. Where do you want all this?"

"Ehh, we'll just stack it in the corner."

The pair made short work of the assorted bags, making a neatish pile of doubtlessly expensive luggage before making their way down the hall and downstairs, Jaune giving a long glance to Yang's door, still wondering what was going on.

"So...best fifteen out of twenty-nine?" Ruby asked cheerily.

"Maybe in a bit, we need to clean up from breakfast first."

"Do we really?"

"Yeah, we gotta do the adult thing."

"But I'm not an adult yet," she began, pausing before a smile lit up her face. "Ha! Have fun, Mister Grown-up!" she shouted gleefully, nearly escaping before Jaune got a hand on her hood, dragging her into the kitchen. "But Soaring Ninja needs meeeee!"

"When we're done, cheesemaster," he chided, more than accustomed to his sisters' attempts at ducking chores. "Oh. Hey, Amber," he said, spotting her by the sink with the majority of the dishes already gathered next to her. She gave no response, her index finger tracing over the surface of the wooden cutting board. Jaune approached her carefully, looking over her shoulder at the finger painting she had made using dishwater on the thick maple butcher block, the water darkening the wood slightly. "Amber?" he asked gently, the fingers of his left hand finding her bicep. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Was woolgathering for a minute there," she said softly, shaking her head briefly.

"What's that?" Ruby asked, drawing their attention to the board.

"I was just doodling, I guess," she replied, a bemused smirk ticking at the corner of her mouth for a moment.

"Nothing I've seen before either," Jaune added, regarding the doodle for a long moment.

What appeared to be a compass rose surrounded an eye, slitted vertically. The topmost corner of the eye aligned with the presumptive North point, South having a spray of five small petals or feathers extending over it. The details weren't crystal clear, given the medium, but it seemed to have a definite purpose behind it.

"Don't worry about it on my account. Please?" Amber spoke softly, embarrassed by the lack of control she was displaying. Without another word, she swept her hand over the cutting board, obliterating her work. "I'll wash, you rinse, and you dry?" she said, indicating Ruby then Jaune in turn.

"Sure," Jaune spoke for both of them. "We'd be _glad _to help," he added, fixing Ruby with his best big brother stare, getting Ruby to roll her eyes back at him.

The three of them made short work of things, despite Ruby's recalcitrance, with Jaune slightly behind them both by dint of his assigned role. "Hey, I'll finish up and join you guys in a minute, okay?"

"Okay, Jaune," Ruby replied cheerily, turning to Amber as she dried her hands. "You ever play Ultimate Street Combat Four?"

"I'm...not sure."

"Ahh, it's easy to learn. Come on!" she reassured her, practically dragging a wryly smiling Amber into the living room.

A short while later, the last glass was slid into the drying rack, and his towel wrung out and hung on its hook. Jaune stretched his arms and back, clearing his hunched working posture and taking a deep breath at the end of a job well done, however small it might be. He turned to leave, but was brought up short when he found Weiss standing in the doorway, her right hand loosely clamped over her left forearm.

"Hey," he began softly, unsure as to the cause of her nervousness.

"Hello, Jaune."

"You uh, need something?"

"It's...I need to apologize. Last year...it wasn't all your fault."

"What do you mean?"

"Yang told me she encouraged you."

"Yeah?" he replied, an eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"As a joke," Weiss clarified.

"Oh," he said softly, his eyes finding the floor. "Guess it's obvious in hindsight. Not sure why you're the one apologizing to me, though."

"Because I should have seen it too. You bore my anger when not all of it was deserved."

Jaune paused for a moment, looking Weiss in the eye and finding genuine contrition there. "That's fair, I guess. I'm still sorry for not taking the hint sooner, though. And for making you have to talk to Neptune. I didn't realize that had ended that badly."

Her pale eyes found the floor for a moment before she walked over to the counter, leaning against it next to him.

"It ended, end of story. I don't know if maybe I was hoping for something more, but having the possibility cut short…" she trailed off.

"Yeah, I can imagine."

"I'm also sorry for dismissing you as a person; probably more than anyone in our two teams. You're a better person than I gave you credit for, and I should have been a better person than I was."

"Thanks, Weiss. That means a lot, actually."

"Well, I also have to thank you for Ruby. Don't," she said flatly, heading off any humility he was about to interject with a raised hand. "She's probably the first real friend I've ever had, and if I'd lost her...I don't know what I'd do."

"Yeah, me too," he concurred with a sigh.

"You two aren't…?" she asked, her visage darkening with worry.

"No! No, it's not like that, Weiss."

She regarded him cooly for several moments, weighing her words carefully before she spoke. "Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"I promise it wouldn't bother me if you were."

"Were what?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration at his density once again. "If you two were dating, dolt."

"Oh. Didn't realize we needed your permission."

"That's not what I…" she fired back angrily, until she saw the smirk on his face and deflated. "Yang's right, you _have _changed."

"We all have, Weiss."

"I suppose we have," she replied with the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

"I mean, you and me having a civil conversation like this? Who'da thunk it a year ago?"

A soft puff of air escaped her nostrils as the corners of her mouth ticked up ever so slightly. "Indeed."

"As a matter of fact, I'd like to ask you something."

"What is it?" she asked warily, unsure of where he was going with the line of conversation.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about you all summer, and now that you're here..."

"This had better not be…"

"Oh trust me, Weiss. This is much, _much _better," he said with a smile, looking over his shoulder for a moment to ensure their relative privacy. Seeing the sisterly pair of Yang and Ruby going at it over video games yet again, but still unwilling to let his plans be shared with anyone but Weiss, he leaned in close, whispering softly into her ear.

* * *

"Ugh, _Jaunnnnne,_" Ruby whined in disappointed exasperation.

"What?" Yang asked, following her sister's gaze into the kitchen, seeing Jaune and Weiss in a close and intimate posture. "Oh, this oughta be good," she whispered mischievously, drawing even Amber's attention.

They could see Weiss' face from where they sat, and it passed through a whole litany of emotions before their eyes. First was as close as could be without crossing the line into utter revulsion, the scar over her left eye crinkling along with her face in disgust as she physically leaned away from Jaune's very presence. This faded quickly, however, transitioning into a visage of confusion, her gaze flitting to the floor and back to him several times, her lips slightly parted as she listened. Next was surprise, her eyebrows shooting up before her face turned slightly towards him, the gears clearly turning in her mind now. Ever so slowly the corners of her mouth turned upwards, a satisfied smile gracing her features. It was almost a full return to her previously famous haughty look, complete with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Jaune at last leaned back, his head cocked as he awaited an answer.

"Jaune?"

"Yes?"

"I would _love_ to. Get your things, we're going into town."

"What, _now_?"

"_Yes_, now!" she fired back testily. "We have a lot of time to make up for, after all," she added, her voice prim and proper again.

"Okay!" he said with a smile, stomping off towards the corner of the room and grabbing Crocea Corax, settling the weapon on his hip before plucking his gauntlets from the counter where he'd set them to wash dishes. "Lemme hit the can and we can get going," he added, trotting to the downstairs bathroom.

"What?" Ruby asked quietly, her eyes blinking slowly.

"The hell just happened?" Yang elaborated, equally stunned.

* * *

Thankfully, for the sake of the sisters' current mission, Qrow had made it back to the house soon after Jaune and Weiss had departed. Thus relieved of sentry duty, and with the aid of Yang's beloved Bumblebee, the pair had gotten to Port Arcadia in record time. Adding to their good fortune, they were now only faced with the task of finding two of the most out-of-place people in a small town.

Further aiding them, Ruby's Semblance came into play, launching her up the staircase in the central clock tower in seconds, Crescent Rose deployed into its rifle form to give her better vision from her lofty perch. Scroll to Scroll calling had limited range, but in Port A, it was hardly a concern, and so Ruby was calling out long distance targeting data to her sister, who was on the ground for more in depth reconnaissance.

"Okay, they just walked into the Dust shop on Peridot and Sawyer. Be careful, Yang, they almost saw you!" she whispered, in spite of the fact that no one was there to hear her.

"Relax, sis. _I'm_ the sneaky one, remember?" she heard through her earpiece.

"You're the 'destroy a bar' one," Ruby muttered.

"I heard that."

"I still can't believe she's refusing to admit that this is a date."

"And that's why it's going to be so much fun getting these spy shots to pass around when she denies it. Little Miss Fussybritches needs to lighten up and not be so uptight all the time."

"I'm not sure this is what we should be doing, Yang."

"Would I steer you wrong, sis?"

"You really want an answer to that?" Ruby answered, clearly unamused.

"Aw, come on, Rubes. Don't you wanna know what your bestie is doing with your _other_ bestie?"

"Well, I..._crap_! Break left!" she barked, spotting their quarry exiting the dust shop from a side door.

A quick dive and roll later, and Yang was seated on the ground, her back against a large planter box, the adrenaline of the chase putting a healthy flush on her cheeks. Her soft panting nearly gave her away as Jaune and Weiss walked past her hiding spot, chatting amiably to Ruby's eye. "Hold position," she said as she watched them turn the corner, counting to five before speaking again. "Clear. That was close. What were they talking about?"

"Weiss complaining about the quality of the Dust they had, saying that an SDC-affiliated shop would be _soooo _much better," she added, and Ruby could practically hear her sister's eyes rolling from fifty yards away.

"But we don't have…" Ruby thought aloud, her eyes going wide as the realization hit them both.

"The docks!" Yang said, verbalizing their epiphany. "I'll cut across the alley and head down Topaz, see if I can get ahead of them."

"Don't blow your cover, Yang. I'll take Peridot; they've got rooftop dining at the Sands Cafe. I should be able to get overwatch going there."

"Got it. Moving," she concluded tersely, getting quickly to her feet and dashing to her chosen street and heading towards the water.

Less than a minute later, Ruby was again peering through her rifle scope, perched above the boardwalk while the retired couple two tables over eyed her nervously over their mimosas. The late summer day still had a sizeable tourist crowd, but their manner of dress was easy to distinguish from two Huntsmen-in-training, as was that of the locals. "In position," she muttered softly, updating her sister.

"Almost there," Yang replied, her breathing slightly elevated from the five block dash. "Okay, I've got eyes on the docks from Saleen's."

"Got you," Ruby replied, quickly picking her sister out of the crowd before she resumed scanning. "Do you have a line of sight going up Sapphire?"

"Yeah, I've got a clear shot, but I don't see 'em."

"Okay. Keep your eyes peeled, I don't care how good that waitress looks, Yang."

"Meh, I've seen better."

The next minute was an exercise in patience, both sisters increasingly worried they'd missed something.

"You don't suppose they ducked into an alley to make out somewhere along the way, do you?"

"He's on a date with _Weiss_, not you."

"Hey! That was _one_ time!"

"Then what was Dad talking about when…" Ruby trailed off, hearing the rising sound of a Bullhead preparing to take off from the nearby airport. "You don't think…"

"But how the hell did they get there before us?"

"Speed glyphs, you _dolts_."

"Weiss?!" Both sisters exclaimed in shock.

"Next time you want to run covert surveillance, Ruby, don't use the same team tactical channel that your target set up for you in the first place," she lectured, and they could hear Jaune in the background, utterly failing to suppress his laughter.

"Oh."

"And for the last time, this isn't a date. Jaune just wants my input on some shopping he has to do."

"I bet that isn't the only input he's interested in," Yang quipped before she could stop herself. Not that she would have wanted to.

"Ugh, Ruby, _restrain_ your sister. I told you, we'll be back in time for dinner. _Don't_ follow us," Weiss practically growled before she closed the connection with an audible chirp.

"Rude," Ruby muttered, stowing Crescent Rose across her hips and stomping downstairs to find her sister.

"You know, the more she protests, the more I don't believe her," Yang groused, crossing her arms under her bust.

"Let's go double check that they've actually left."

"Ooh, good call, sis."

That a Schnee had bought two tickets to Vale from the teenager in the ticket booth had been memorable enough as it was, before she had just bought out the entire flight so they could leave immediately. Confirmation that she'd boarded along with Jaune was unwelcome, if needed, news as well. The icing on the cake for Ruby and Yang was that between the flight time there and back, and refueling in Vale, they were looking at over an hour wait. Just long enough to be still more expedient to fly rather than take the ferry.

"Fine, two tickets on the next flight to Vale," Yang said, her anger barely under control at this point. She slid the Lien across the counter, receiving two printed tickets in return.

"So...smoothies at the Sands?" Ruby asked, mouth already watering over her usual strawberry double chocolate chip with whipped cream on top.

"I mean, I _guess_," Yang grumbled, still stewing over being given the slip. "Getting the usual?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Dunno. Mango melon madness maybe?"

"That sounds delicious, actually." came a third, familiar voice, the sisters turning to address the newcomer.

"Blake!" Ruby cheered, quickly hugging her, nearly causing her teammate to drop the small rucksack she was carrying.

Blake was taken aback at the enthusiastic reception before she remembered that this was normal, and expected in Ruby's case, and she embraced the shorter girl with her free arm, smiling as much as she typically allowed herself. "Hello, Ruby. I missed you, too. Both of you," she amended, cutting her gaze to her partner.

"Heyyyy, partner. Finally decided to, umm, what's the word?" she began hesitantly, snapping her finger.

"What?" Ruby asked, before she stepped back, her eyes going wide at what she _wasn't_ seeing. "Oh my gosh, your _ears_!" she squealed, still thinking them one of the cutest things on the face of Remnant.

"Is it bad here?" Blake asked, her bared Faunus trait drooping in apprehension.

Yang stepped in and gave her a hug as well, far more gently than her little sister had. "No worse than Vale, really," Yang reassured her. "It's a new look, that's for sure."

"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement," she replied dryly.

"No! You look, like, _really _good," Yang sputtered as she backed away a bit. "You look like..._you_," she added, an awkward paragon of clarity.

"Well, I should hope so," Blake replied with a slight smile. "I don't think I'd look good in a ponytail and tiara. Speaking of, is Weiss here yet?"

"She _was_," Ruby answered through clenched teeth.

"Was?"

"Yeah, she got here, parked her luggage at the house, and then took off into Vale on _that _Bullhead," she pointed at the barely visible speck in the distance, "on a date with _Jaune_," Yang listed, ticking off each point with a finger.

Blake's eyes went wide at the revelation, her eyes darting slowly between the two sisters.

"Does it make me a horrible person that the most shocking part of that sentence is the word 'date'?" she asked apprehensively.

"Nope," both sisters answered firmly.

Blake's eyes did another visual inventory, spying the two tickets still stuck between Yang's fingers. Doing the mental math, she sighed her best put-upon sigh, eyes closing halfway before she pinched the bridge of her nose. "We're following them. Aren't we?"

"Yup."

"Good thing I travel light," she replied, throwing her pack back over her shoulder. "Someone said smoothies?"

"Yeah. Come on, Blake, we'll grab another ticket and then get you up to speed while we wait for the next flight into Vale."

* * *

Having learned from their earlier failure, Ruby, Yang and Blake had spread out over several blocks upon landing in Vale proper. The locator function on their scrolls had been Blake's suggestion, as well as a more private group chat allowing them to coordinate and triangulate the position of their missing teammate. True to her word, they were indeed in the mercantile district, and a consensus was reached between the girls to simply intrude and wrangle their wayward fourth back into the group.

Even so, the three of them remained seated at a bus stop outside the original Adel's location, the Huntsman-oriented fashion house having long since opened branches in Mistral and Atlas. Vacuans, as a whole, tended towards a nomadic, junker aesthetic, and the Adels hadn't even tried to penetrate that particular market yet.

"Any idea why she felt the need for even _more_ clothes?" Blake asked, the vaguest hint of irritation in her voice.

"I dunno. She's _Weiss_?" Yang replied, shrugging her shoulders.

They all jumped slightly at the door opening next to them, only to discover that it was simply a regular, well-dressed customer exiting the building.

"Why aren't we just barging in there again?" Yang asked.

"Too many potential exits to give us the slip," Blake answered easily, checking the locator app on her scroll again. "Still in there."

"Surveillance is _boring_," Ruby whined.

"This was your idea, Ruby," Blake countered.

"No, it was Yang's."

Blake's ears pricked up momentarily before drooping, her palm finding her face. "I can't believe this."

"You know you missed us, Blake," Yang replied over her shoulder, her focus on the door she was sure would disgorge their absent teammate any moment now.

"No, I…" Blake began.

"And just what are you three doing?" came the high-pitched query, Weiss Schnee in full annoyed heiress mode as her heels angrily clicked against the concrete sidewalk.

"What? _How_?" Ruby asked in exasperation, checking her scroll again.

"I let Jaune borrow my scroll to access the local network. He's got quite a lot of paperwork to do when we get back to school, apparently. That still doesn't answer the question. And hello, Blake. I would have thought you above such tomfoolery," she sniffed.

"Not like I had anywhere else to be," Blake countered with a smirk, deflecting the blame onto her other co-conspirators.

"And you...oh," Weiss stopped, taking in the absence of her teammate's trademark bow. "I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to not hide who you are, Blake." Weiss approached her, giving her a perfunctory hug, punctuated by a cheery beep from Yang's Scroll. Weiss stepped back, regarding the blonde miscreant with a raised eyebrow. "Yang, if my father saw that, he'd burst a blood vessel."

"Well…"

"Would you like the Scrollmail address for the Atlesian Tribune?"

Yang could only blink in surprise at Weiss' sass before she remembered her true mission for the afternoon.

"Once I get a picture of you on your date, sure! Schnee heiress seen in Vale with mysterious blond dork!"

"It's not a date, Yang. How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through that thick skull of yours?"

"Until you give me a good reason to believe it, frosty," she fired back testily.

"Guys?" Ruby interjected, unsure why her sister seemed so on edge about this. It wasn't like Weiss was stealing _her_ boyfriend or anything, right? "Can we just calm down already? I just want us to have a good weekend together before school starts. Is that too much to ask?"

"We'd better not end up in another food fight, Ruby," Weiss chided her.

"Pfft, that's only between semesters," she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.

Ruby's three teammates all shared a soft chuckle at _that_ particular memory, before Yang wrangled them into a crushing group hug, garnering a squeak of protest from Weiss.

"I missed you guys," Yang confessed.

"Mmrph mmhr!" Weiss grunted in protest, her face mashed into Yang's cleavage.

"Team RWBY is back together, aww yeah!" Ruby cheered as they were released.

"Be still, my beating heart," Weiss deadpanned.

"I told you ditching your team wouldn't work," Jaune chided her gently.

She simply sighed, shaking her head gently as the realization of what she'd gotten herself back into hit her fully. "That you did, Jaune."

"Wow, you clean up _nice_, Vomit Boy," Yang pronounced, looking him over from stem to stern.

"If he's going to be associated with me, he'd better look the part," Weiss stated matter-of-factly.

The tattered remnants of his blue jeans had been replaced with form-fitting, if not outright _tight_, trousers in a deep blue, with well-concealed cargo pockets in addition to the normal ones. The old, ramshackle steel-toed boots that wouldn't have been out of place on a Valerian dock hand were now polished black and square-toed, nut brown gaiters reaching from his just below his knees to a stirrup under the arch of his foot. His trademark hoodie appeared now to be absent, though its replacement was identical in color and fit, save for the floppy collar now being a broad, upright affair reminiscent of a military uniform. The sleeves still ended just before his elbows, but the impression of the entire ensemble was far more professional and clean.

"Still need a haircut," he muttered, brushing a strand of his bangs out of his eyes before pulling a large, wheeled suitcase forward and standing it on its end.

"Don't you think that's a little much to be adding to your mountain of luggage, princess?" Yang quipped dryly.

"Oh, this is all mine, Yang," Jaune volunteered.

"Suuure it is."

"Come on, you saw the state of my clothes!" he squawked.

"Ehh, fair," she conceded.

"Oh, hey...Blake…" he trailed off, his eyes flicking upwards for the briefest of moments.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked, an undercurrent of trepidation in her voice.

"No! No, nothing wrong! I mean, you do you, right? I just thought you were all about keeping that a secret."

"People change."

"Yeah, I guess we do. I mean, I always kind of saw you as this 'inner cat' person to begin with, right?" he began, complete with air quotes. "The fish obsession, plus you have the whole 'cool, aloof beauty who'll scratch your eyes out if you pet her wrong' thing going. It's just neat to see you embrace that. Like, you're showing off that you're all that, but you've got a cute, playful side to you too, you know?"

"Jaune?" Blake began, and his heart sank in shame.

"Yeah?" he replied timidly.

"That is without a doubt the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."

"I know," he said, hanging his head.

"Thank you," she added with a slight, soft smile.

"For?"

"For caring enough to see me as just a person."

"Oh. Well, my grandmother would've tanned my hide if I hadn't."

"And for disappearing on us."

"What?" he asked, blinking in confusion.

"If it hadn't been for you, I might never have reconnected with my family."

"I don't follow."

"I hadn't seen my parents in five years. It took a reminder of my mortality to get me to realize I needed to change that."

"I'm glad my death served such a noble purpose," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry," Blake added, hiding her surprise at Jaune's turbulent emotional state.

"I'm just glad you're not dead at all, and we're all back together again," Ruby added, heading off the conversation before it got dark and belligerent.

"Yeah, me too," he said, letting out a deep breath.

"So now what?" Yang asked, growing rapidly bored.

"Well, the last thing I need is to get a haircut. I've got everything else I need for school on Monday. Do you trust me to do that on my own, Weiss?"

"Eh, you've shown decent fashion sense so far. Just make sure it's fitting for the image, like we discussed?"

"Yes ma'am, right away ma'am!" he barked like a raw military cadet.

"Need I remind you that this was _your_ idea?" Weiss retorted through a scowl.

Jaune relented, offering the group a soft chuckle at his own expense. "Yeah, it was. Thanks for everything," he added, handing Weiss' scroll back to her.

"Oh, don't thank me yet. I still have a lot of work to whip you into shape, Jaune. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl."

"I know," he replied, smiling now. "We _all _know."

"Damn, first fight already? You work fast, Jaune," Yang chimed in with an easy grin.

"Hoping to pick me up on the rebound?" Jaune fired back smoothly.

"Like you could handle me," she rebuffed him, cocking her hip seductively.

"Is that an invitation?"

"What the hell am I watching?" Blake whispered to Ruby.

"I _swear _I'm getting a spray bottle mod for Crescent Rose," she growled.

"Like I'm that desperate, Jaune," Yang continued.

"I don't know, you were pretty worked up over me this morning. I found you in the barn and you were just _drenched_."

"In _sweat_, blondie. Don't go thinking you're hot stuff because your ass looks good in those pants," she warned him, drawing a blush from Weiss once she glanced in an unsuccessful attempt to debunk Yang's claim.

"You really think so?" He turned around, twisting to try and take a gander himself.

"She's...not wrong," a wide-eyed Blake confided to Ruby, who was as red as her namesake.

"Well, damn. You can thank Weiss, I guess. She helped pick them out for me." Jaune smiled coyly as he saw Yang take the bait, focusing on his shopping partner's already scandalized expression as proof of their budding relationship.

"I _bet_ she did."

"Well, they were also on sale, so...win-win?" Jaune admitted sheepishly.

"Since when does Adel's have _anything_ on sale?" Yang asked, suspicious and intrigued simultaneously.

"I dunno. Never would've been able to afford all this otherwise," Jaune replied with a shrug.

"Well, as long as we're here, we can all spend time together!" Ruby piped up hopefully.

"We really need to teach you about boundaries, Ruby," Weiss replied.

"Don't be like that, Weiss! Besides, there's an awesome arcade around the corner! Next to comic book store, Jaune."

"Maybe after my haircut? I'm _really_ close to broke right now."

"Oh, all right. If you ask real nice, I'll even let you read the issues of X-Ray and Vav that you missed," Ruby added in a singsong voice.

"You still have 'em? Sweet!"

"Just make sure you don't get lost again, Jaune," Yang joked.

"I get it, okay? Do you need to hold my hand all around town?"

"Nah, that's Weiss' new job."

"Pass."

"Aww, don't be so hard on your boyfriend, Weiss Cream," Yang pressed on.

"Not a date. _Definitely_ not my boyfriend," she retorted sharply.

"Suuure."

"Just let it go, Yang," Jaune stepped in firmly, the firm set of his jaw giving Yang pause for a moment before she deflated with a sigh.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"Apology accepted. Am I allowed to wander off, or do I have to hold someone's apron string?"

"Jaune, it's not like that, okay? You had all of us worried sick," Yang assured him, "well, _almost_ all of us. We're allowed to be a little paranoid. _Especially _if we can't contact you directly."

"All right, when's the last flight back to Patch? I can't get any of my paperwork done 'til at least tomorrow; courthouse is closed."

"Five, unless they've got seasonal traffic. Even then, it'd be better to take the five P so we can get back in time for dinner. Dad's supposed to be getting home today, if he isn't there already."

"What about the Beacon faculty?" Weiss suggested.

"Huh?"

"Surely this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Especially for Huntsmen."

"Yeah, Jaune, I think Professor Port might have mentioned that once or twice," Ruby added brightly.

"More like fifty," Yang grumbled.

"You know, I think you may be on to something. Would anyone even be there on a Saturday though?"

"Only one way to find out," Blake observed with a shrug.

"Guess the haircut has to wait. If I can't catch a flight back to Patch tonight, I'll grab a hotel room in Vale, okay?"

Ruby gave a resigned sigh before she answered. "Okay, but you be careful!"

"Come on, Ruby. I'm walking five blocks across the mercantile district and getting on a Bullhead to Beacon. What could _possibly_ happen?" he asked before shooting a glare at Yang, his finger pointed at her in admonition. "Don't. Say it."

Yang closed her half-open mouth into a knowing smirk, the joke heard and received without having to speak a word. "Flight leaves at five, okay?"

"Got it. Now, lemme see if I can go get my life back."

"Good luck, Jaune," Weiss said calmly

"Thanks!" he replied over his shoulder as he trundled down the sidewalk, suitcase in tow.

"You're still looking at it, aren't you?" Yang whispered to her partner.

"No!...Yes," she quickly admitted, her ears drooping in shame. "He really did work out a lot, didn't he?"

"That's what _he _says. But forget about that. You too, Ruby."

"I was not staring at his butt!"

"Better not, or Weiss'll cut you."

"I refuse to put up with this. Come on, Ruby. I suddenly feel the need for coffee."

"Oh, okay!" Ruby replied. "Five p.m., no trashing bars, Yang."

"I'll try my best!" she replied cheerily, getting an eye roll from her sister before they turned to leave.

"You know, I have just the thing to take your mind off that fine butt," she said with a wink, pulling her scroll out of her pocket.

"This had better not be another dick pic."

"Oh, come on, that was _one time_!"

"It was still disgusting."

"-ly huge! Seriously, the _size_ of that thing," Yang said with a shiver, getting a flat amber gaze from Blake in response.

"It's just my new scroll wallpaper. See?" she asked, tapping her password in quickly and getting several icons floating over the mostly bare torso of a young man. Abs like granite cobblestones were whipcord taut as the man's torso was twisted slightly, arms up and pulling off, or maybe _on_, a white shirt. The garment obscured the fellow's face but for a small shock of blond hair just visible in the corner of the photo.

Blake's gaze became even flatter, her ears drooping noticeably. "I'm going to kill him."

"What?"

"Half the summer, Yang. He spends half the summer dropping subtle and not so subtle hints that he wanted to be more than just friends, and then he sends you this the second I leave for Menagerie?"

"What are you talking about? I just got this this morning."

"I thought the CCT was down," Blake replied, slightly confused.

"Yeah, has been since Thursday."

"Then how the hell did Sun send that to you?"

Yang's face twisted into a mischievous, knowing grin.

"Wrong blond, kitty cat."

"What?" she asked in confusion, before the realization hit her and Blake's eyes flew wide open.

"Yup."

"_Damn,_" she whispered appreciatively.

"I _know_, right?" she muttered, closing her scroll again. "So...shopping?"

"What for?"

"Well, there's a sale, and I'm legit curious what they've got," Yang said, getting a slightly annoyed smirk from her partner. "Clothes first, books after?" she added with a hopeful smile.

"Deal," Blake said, her ears perking up with her smile.

The front door of Adel's opened with the barest hint of a squeak from the hinges, an old-fashioned bell hanging from the door announcing their arrival. Yang and Blake stepped up to the counter, amber eyes darting to and fro over the various mannequins and garments on display as her partner spoke to the front clerk.

"Good afternoon, and welcome to Adel's, I'm Larson. How may I help you today, Miss Xiao Long?" the immaculately-dressed and groomed man said with an even warmth born of decades of experience.

"You know me?" she replied with an eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Mister Adel has a perennial luxury box in Amity Coliseum. Wherever the tournament is held, local employees are encouraged to attend to stay on top of Huntsman fashion trends. I must say, your bronze medal match against Sun Wukong was quite the spectacle."

"Hear that, Blake? I'm famous!" she said with a wide grin.

Blake simply gave her partner a bemused smile and light eye roll in place of a reply.

"We're looking for a new look for the upcoming school year," Yang continued confidently.

"Always the best time for a change, ma'am. And who might this be?" Larson asked, already beginning to type into a large tablet-scroll.

"My partner, Blake Belladonna."

Larson's gaze cut to Blake for a moment, flicking up briefly before he raised a brow almost imperceptibly. "I thought I recognized you."

"There a problem?" Yang asked, as loaded a question as any, even as her partner seemed to wilt under the scrutiny, her ears folding back.

"Not at all, Miss Xiao Long. I was merely surprised by the lack of a bow. I've got quite an eye for detail; serves me well as Concierge. If I may be so bold, Miss Belladonna, you look better without it."

Blake's eyes went wide for a moment, before Yang gently elbowed her side. "See? I told you," she said with a smile, earning a slight blush from Blake.

"Will you be buying off the shelf, tailored or bespoke?" the narrow-faced clerk asked, sharp eyes the color of melted chocolate already taking in their current combat gear and apparent tastes.

"Tailored at least. I was looking through your online catalog last week, and there wasn't anything I liked in my size," she said, crossing her arms under the ample, bouncy reason why.

"I could see how that might be a problem," Larson remarked dryly. "And you, Miss Belladonna?"

"Depends on the price, really."

"Aww, come on, Blakey, treat yourself! It's not like you're hurting for Lien, my little island princess."

"My father was _elected _Chief, Yang. I'm not actually any sort of royalty," Blake retorted with an amused eye roll.

"Ehh, civics was never my strong suit," Yang replied with a shrug.

"If you'll follow me, ladies?" Larson said, leading them further into the plushly appointed shop, his oxfords clicking softly on the few stretches of polished teak flooring separating the patches of rich burgundy carpet. At last they came to the fitting parlor, a three-panel body mirror flanked by racks of coats and trousers on either side. A large, cylindrical holo-display took up a chunk of the floor, four feet wide and eight tall. The only piece of actual furniture was an ornate, and therefore _antique_, chaise lounge, darkly stained oak upholstered in a burgundy velvet.

Reclined upon this was a slender gentleman, dark charcoal trousers pinstriped in an ash gray and a pewter-colored vest over a long sleeved white shirt, the whole ensemble accented with low-heeled black leather boots and a dark red ascot. Legs crossed at the ankles and hands folded across the abdomen, the figure clearly indulging in a nap, as the wide-brimmed black hat resting upon his face further indicated.

"Sir?" the concierge gently asked.

"Have I not told you on several occasions, Larson, that my precious few moments of respite are quite dear to me?" Came the response from under the hat, a lilting drawl lending a measure of playful character to the words.

"You have customers, Mate." Larson replied flatly, clearly willing to indulge the shop's tailor only so far.

"Oh is that so?" he asked with a hint of enthusiasm. "Tell me, what canvas have you brought to brighten my dreary existence?" He continued, sitting up and removing the hat from his face. Bleary blue eyes, darkened bags beneath them, regarded Yang and Blake momentarily before recognition bloomed on the man's haggard and weary face.

"Well now, isn't this just a peach?" Mate asked, a smile curling his lips and shifting the slim moustache perched above a small, matching triangular patch of hair below his lower lip as he took in the appearance of the pair of Huntresses, standing as he did so. "Miss Xiao Long, I must say, your reputation precedes you. My sister's tales of your beauty, while crude, were quite accurate I see. My name is Mate, by the way, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he added, taking her hand "And who is this exquisite creature?" he asked warmly as his gaze shifted to her left.

"This is my partner, Blake Belladonna," she replied, a suspicious eyebrow cocked at the smooth flattery they'd both received.

"A wonderful contrast, the both of you. This shall be quite the ensemble. Back to school makeover, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah, school starts up again on Monday."

"Is this your current combat attire?"

"Both of us, yes," Blake answered.

"Let me see," Mate said, his keen eyes roving over Yang and Blake as he slowly circled them. "Hmmm, not bad. What are you looking to change?"

"Ehh, just looking to go a little more mature, I think. How 'bout you, Blake?"

"Maybe a little warmer? Winter wasn't fun last year."

"I would imagine the ears were especially uncomfortable," he remarked dryly.

"Oh, and maybe something more in the back. Getting a little tired of people staring at my butt all the time," she grumbled.

"While I would agree with most of your peers that covering up such a piece of art would border on the criminal, I will nevertheless accommodate your wishes, "he said smoothly.

"I like this guy," Yang stage whispered to her fiercely blushing partner.

"Miss Xiao Long?" he asked, extending a well-manicured hand to her, leading her to the center of his workspace. Mate closed his eyes for a moment before releasing her hand, a small smile gracing his visage before he spoke. "Hmm, interesting. Now, I will be touching you in places you might not think normal, but I assure you, it is necessary to achieve a proper fit. If you at any time feel uncomfortable, please let me know, and we can pause, or find someone else to do the job," he added, cutting his bloodshot eyes over to Blake.

"Just as long as you're not creepy about it."

"Of course," he concurred, plucking a long tailor's tape dangling from the coat rack, jostling a long coat that matched his pants. Also hanging there was a leather harness, dyed a deep mahogany brown and bearing a holster cradling an elegantly engraved revolver. "Feet shoulder width apart please, arms at your side for the time being," he instructed, pulling a scroll from his pocket and securing it to his forearm with a pair of garters. He started from the top, getting the circumference of Yang's neck, and then her torso in five places, his movements professional as he entered each number into his scroll.

"Do you have any thoughts on color, miss? We have a wide palette available, even when considering some of our newer materials. Dragonskin ballistic weave also has flame retardant qualities you in particular might find useful."

"I...how did you know?"

"I am a man of many talents, Miss Xiao Long. Arms straight out please," he added, continuing in his work with the occasional request for movement, taking over fifty measurements before he was finally done.

"Now then, let us see what we can work out here."

A single press of a button transferred the detailed dimensions of Yang's body onto a wireframe model that shimmered into view in the display tank. It rotated slowly as Mate took several pictures of her, the computer taking a short while to translate her current clothing into a digital model.

"Oh, yeah. I'm hot," she said, getting a soft chuckle from Blake, enjoying her partner's antics first hand again.

"Now then, more mature, you said. Anything else?"

"Yeah, I ride a motorcycle, so something more suited to that?"

"Better insulated, longer coat tails," he began, manipulating the image through the use of a tablet scroll and stylus. "Tails...detachable. Larger, thicker collar to mate with a helmet. Jacket...double breasted, bit more concealment of the decolletage. Maturity, hmmm, a bit more black in the jacket, and full pants. Taller boots, and..._done_." he said at last, though he'd taken less than a minute to effect the wardrobe changes, leaving Yang and Blake to gawk openly at the transformation.

"Whaddya think, Blake?" she asked, her voice hiding her nervousness from anyone without a second set of ears.

"It suits you," she said with a smile, her own pending makeover now far less daunting.

"Yeah. And I thought _Coco _was good at this," she muttered softly, too engrossed in her digital avatar to notice the slight frown that flickered over Mate's face. "How much?" she amended, finally asking the most pertinent question.

"Something bespoke like this would normally fetch a princely sum, as it's likely the last I'll be doing for weeks. However, I can offer to outfit you both for two thousand Lien. On one condition."

"Which is?"

"When you are asked about the outfit-and you will be, I assure you-I merely require that you give them my business card," he said smoothly, plucking a short stack of them from the inside pocket of his vest and handing them to Yang.

"Oh...kay," Yang said, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Now then, I can have that done for you and ready by Monday. That goes for you as well, Miss Belladonna."

"That's...fast?" Blake stated dubiously.

"I don't sleep much."

"No rush, really. We'll be busy next week, plus they don't let any outside civilians into Beacon for the first two weeks of class," Yang replied.

"What a delightful coincidence," Mate replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Monday it is, then. Merely send me a scroll message to let me know where in the dormitories I can find you. My contact information is on the card."

"Wait a minute. You're not an upperclassman, I'd've recognized you."

"You are correct, ma'am."

"How old _are _you?" she asked, clearly finding something amiss.

"Seventeen. And yes, I will be an incoming freshman at Beacon this year." he answered her next question without having to hear it. "I don't sleep much," he reiterated, causing Yang to cock her head quizzically.

"What?"

"It's why I look like I'm thirty-five. That _was_ your next question, was it not?"

"I, well, kind of?" she admitted sheepishly.

"You're far from the first to ask it, I assure you. I've long since stopped taking offense."

"Well, that's good, I guess," Yang said quietly, unsure where to take things from there.

"Indeed. Now then, Miss Belladonna," he trailed off, giving Blake a hand up, "let's see what I can do for _you_."

* * *

Ruby regarded a small metal box the size of a thick paperback book on the cafe table with a curious eye as Weiss' well-manicured nails tapped a button near the corner. An audible click preceded the lid popping open a crack, and she tilted it back, showing the deep blue velvet lining, custom made to cradle the two objects inside. Both were nearly identical, around the size of a small candy bar, gleaming metal polished to a satin finish reinforcing the impression of solid, meticulous craftsmanship.

"I had this custom built just for you, from the dimensions you gave me for Crescent Rose. I had it delivered to Vale because I didn't think it would be ready in time for the start of the school year."

"Uhh, thanks, Weiss. What is it?"

"It's a hardlight shield generator. Here," she said, opening her scroll to display the schematics and documentation for the device. "It will give you several options for field configuration, but it's optimized for a two point five meter spherical field. That's just enough room for you to fit inside, especially when you're using your rifle."

"Ohhhh. But won't that throw off my balance? It's a weapon attachment, right?"

"It only weighs 362 grams, Ruby. You'll barely notice it's there."

"I dunno…" Ruby said, her brow crinkling skeptically.

"Please, just try it at least? I don't want you blindsided again," Weiss said softly, her hand covering Ruby's. "You're my friend. My _partner_. I don't want to lose you," she said softly, barely keeping a tremor out of her voice.

"Aww, Weiss," Ruby replied, blushing at the frank and honest words.

"Just don't let that go to your head."

"That's more like it," Ruby replied with a warm, playful smirk. "I guess I could…" she began before a scroll alert chimed for both of them. Weiss pulled her device close and opened the messaging app, her eyebrows perking up in mild surprise.

"Well, looks like Jaune got his scroll working at least. Last flight to Patch is at eight thirty, meet us for dinner at six. Us?" she asked, looking across at Ruby, who was reading the same message.

"Iunno. Ooh, Greenbriar? That's like, the fanciest place I've ever been to eat!"

"So, tolerable?" Weiss snarked. "And wasn't Jaune talking about being broke?"

"Be nice. We're all going, right?"

"I suppose."

"I'd better let Dad know, if he's...yup, still in Vale," she amended as she tapped quickly at the Scroll's keyboard. "And Dad makes five! This is gonna be great!"


	15. A Change of Scenery

**Chapter 15**

**A Change of Scenery**

As it turned out, not having a terrible case of nerves was a panacea for Jaune Arc, his erstwhile trademark motion sickness now reduced to merely a slight queasy feeling for the short duration of the Bullhead flight. That he had to basically beg the pilot to let him on board with an outdated student ID went without saying, though the man had eventually relented and allowed him passage. A couple construction workers were his only companions, and they were mostly concerned with getting a brief nap in before having to cart the doubtlessly heavy crates of materials off the aircraft and towards whatever last minute project they were tasked with.

Even with all that, Jaune's first glimpse of Beacon Academy after nearly four months away was still quite the scenic vista. The main auditorium seemed to be completely rebuilt, and the small, temporary construction offices were now few and far between, indicating that only finishing work remained to get the Academy back to normal. The air docks were much as he remembered, functional and clean, and the landing was as crisp and professional as he'd ever had. Seeing them almost bereft of activity, however, was an eerie feeling. While the look was the same, it didn't quite feel like Beacon just yet. Perhaps tomorrow would bring back the hustle and bustle of the students and faculty, but for now, Jaune was left with quiet, punctuated occasionally by the distant sounds of construction.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself before having to search out a professor, he idly glanced about once more before hitting the jackpot. Jaune's eyebrows perked up under his rather sloppy bangs, finding a pensive Headmaster Ozpin looking out over the bay, cane in one hand and his ever-present mug in the other. Figuring that even though the enigmatic professor likely wouldn't help him he'd at least point him in the right direction, Jaune strode over towards the man, the large wheels of his suitcase clicking softly over the seams between the paving stones.

"Umm, Professor Ozpin?"

The barest flinch of surprise was visible before Ozpin's expression grew warm with a soft smile. "Why, Mister Arc, this _is_ a pleasant surprise. Could you hold your thoughts for just a moment?" he stated more than asked, leaving Jaune with a puzzled look on his face as he collapsed his cane, dropping the device into a pocket before he retrieved his scroll. A quick trio of taps unlocked it, opened his contacts and then opened a call, Ozpin speaking into the device as soon as a connection was made. "Mister Coleridge? Do you recall that task I had asked you about three times last week?" he began genially.

"The one you nagged me t'death over?" came the voice that Jaune recognized as the Beacon Groundskeeper, Samuel Coleridge. "Yeh, I'm 'bout 'alfway done wiff it. Not like I don't 'ave other, better things to worry about, Ozpin."

"I see. Well, I'm afraid that work is no longer necessary."

"What!?"

Ozpin gave Jaune a glance before his voice gained another slight measure of mirth. "Also, you owe me twenty Lien."

"What th'ell d'ya mean!?"

"That will be all, Mister Coleridge," Ozpin added before terminating the call amidst a stream of obscenities from the cranky old man. "Now, how may I help you?"

Jaune blinked once in surprise, Ozpin's handling of the cantankerous gardener at once dismissive and amusing. "Well, you see sir, apparently I've been declared legally dead. Which honestly is a real headache."

"Rather inconvenient being thought deceased, I agree."

"You too, huh?"

"A story for another time, perhaps. I imagine you would like to rectify this as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

"We should be able to procure the necessary forms in my office," he said offhandedly like Jaune wasn't terrified of the notion of the Headmaster's office even as an abstract concept.

"Oh, okay. Yes, sir," he replied, following the well-dressed Huntsman towards Beacon Tower as he made another call.

"Shaw," came the gruff reply, a metallic twinge in the voice likely from an older model scroll.

"Yes, Professor, I have need of you at the air docks to handle reception. Something urgent has come up that I need to address personally."

"I'll be there in five, sir."

"Thank you, Professor Shaw," Ozpin replied in his typically smooth diction, terminating the call before taking a sip from his mug.

"Sorry to be such a bother, sir," Jaune said softly.

"Think nothing of it, Mister Arc. Would you like to deposit your luggage in your dorm room first? It is but a trivial detour."

"I actually kind of need it. If this takes too long, I'm going to end up spending the night in Vale."

"The dorms _are_ open, effective today, for returning students," Ozpin countered as they walked.

"I didn't know that," he replied, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Sure, I guess dragging this around is gonna get old after a while. If it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. Besides, a few alterations to the campus layout have been made, and you likely missed the scrollmail on it."

"Yeah thing's been dead for a couple months now."

"How long have you been back, might I ask?"

"Got back yesterday, actually."

"Ah. We need to get your scroll updated as well."

"Yeah, Ruby said something about the CCT?" he asked, glad that Ozpin hadn't yet pressed him on the circumstances of his absence.

"Yes. Taken offline when malicious software was discovered running on the network. By your sister, I believe."

"Margie?" he asked, blinking in surprise.

"Marguerite, you mean? Yes. She interned here in the CCT office over the summer. The security team is conducting final checks now to ensure all traces of the virus have been purged."

"Sounds serious," Jaune subtly prodded for more information.

"Indeed. Though likely it was just the work of amateurs who had a pet project get out of hand," Ozpin replied, taking a sip of his hot cocoa as they turned towards the newly-built dorm wing.

Jaune regarded him with a barely raised eyebrow at the slight incongruity of the statement, but offered no comment. "This is the second year dorms? I thought those were over by the dining hall."

"A few things have been shuffled as the result of the total loss of the exchange student lodging as well as the damage to the upperclassmen's dorms. It's all one building now, with more flexibility in the team suites."

"Suites?"

"Yes, I can imagine not having to walk down the hall to the showers will be a most welcome change of pace."

"Certainly for the girls. Pyrrha kept asking me to escort her whenever she went during second semester. I think there was somebody creeping on her, but she never would tell me who."

"One of many reasons I'm glad to have you back leading your team, Mister Arc," Ozpin replied with an enigmatic smile on his lips. "Here we are. Your Scroll, please."

"Hmm? Oh!" he replied, handing the device over. A few taps on Ozpin's Scroll coded the door appropriately, and he double checked it with Jaune's, getting a soft beep as the door lock disengaged. Jaune opened the door, plucking his scroll from Ozpin's grasp and wheeling his luggage inside. A cozy common room held a pair of desks with computer terminals, as well as a couple couches faced towards the door, the large television screen mounted above it in full view of them. A single door was on the opposite wall, as well as one to either side of him, all three standing open to reveal a common bathroom separating two bedrooms.

"This new floorplan was adopted to offer a modicum more privacy within teams, as well as allow for students to engage in leisure activities without disturbing their teammates."

"That mean here in the common room, or their bedrooms?" Jaune asked with a slight smirk, remembering Margie's tales of collegiate debauchery.

"Yes," Ozpin replied, reading between the lines better than most would.

"Got it," he chuckled, heaving his suitcase onto a bed and returning to the door. Jaune closed it firmly and double checked the lock with his Scroll. Satisfied, he fell in step with the Beacon Headmaster again.

"We've also had to change the curriculum a bit. Faculty shortage across all four Academies," Ozpin clarified.

"That's not good."

"I'm afraid not, but it does offer some benefits to the students. Opportunities to teach as well as learn from their fellows."

"I don't follow."

"We've instituted a mentorship program for the incoming freshman class, to ease the load on the faculty. Helping with the issues that fall outside the normal academic curriculum. I can tell you from extensive personal experience that the best way to learn is to teach, Mister Arc."

"I suppose," Jaune replied, barely containing his skepticism. There was clearly more going on, but Ozpin was never one to come out and say much, if anything, that could be taken at face value.

"Also, you'll need to resubmit your class preferences for the year."

"Faculty shortage?" he asked, already fearing that was going to be a recurring theme for the school year.

"Your application was purged from the system upon the erroneous report of your demise. In addition, all student files had to be reviewed for errors and falsifications," Ozpin added, a chill creeping up Jaune's spine at the mention of his transcripts. "It appears that for whatever reason, your prep school transcripts were altered and riddled with errors. Why, it even looked like someone was trying to make them appear to be forgeries."

"Heh. Imagine that," Jaune forced through a smile he didn't truly feel.

"I had to toss them out entirely, of course. No telling what was true and what wasn't. We'll just treat you as a second year transfer student. You did manage passing grades in your first year at an institution with equivalent educational standards to Beacon, did you not?"

"Yyyes?"

"Excellent! No need to further complicate things."

"Thanks," he replied, trying to get his pounding heart back under control.

"Not at all, Mister Arc. The less work I have to deal with, the better."

"I thought Professor Goodwitch dealt with all of that stuff anyway."

"Professor Goodwitch has more pressing matters to attend to at present, as you'll no doubt discover."

"That sounds...dark."

"Merely a well-deserved promotion, I assure you."

"Oh," Jaune offered quietly, starting as he realized they'd arrived at the elevator in the lobby of Beacon Tower. "That was quick."

"I've found that time flies with good conversation. Shall we?" he asked as the door opened.

Jaune stepped into the elevator car with a brief glance about, not noticing any changes in this part of the campus at least.

"Now then, since I know this ride will be completely private, I must ask you what you've been up to this summer. Huntsmen coming back from the dead isn't unheard of, but first year students doing so _is_," Ozpin opined, tilting his head down to look Jaune in the eye over his glasses.

"I was training. My Sensei is a former Huntsman; got out of the game years ago. They helped..._tried_ to help defend Shion. They nearly died, but I was able to help them like I did Amber."

"You've seen her?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, ran into her on Patch," Jaune answered, not sure if he'd screwed up somehow.

"I _see_. Please, continue."

"Well, once they'd recovered, we still had to hide. Sensei said that at least one of the people sent to attack Shion wanted them dead, or worse."

"I see. Terrible business, personal vendettas. Might I ask who this Sensei was? In strictest confidence, of course," he added hastily.

"No." Ozpin paused to reflect for a moment, and Jaune decided to head off further inquiry. "I swore on my family honor not to reveal their identity. I don't even know their name, but they made me promise all the same, in exchange for training."

"And if I threatened to expel you for insubordination?" Ozpin asked in a casual tone that belied the serious subject matter.

"You wouldn't."

"You seem rather sure of that."

"If you wanted me gone, I've given you more than enough reason already. And even if you did, I still wouldn't break my vow," Jaune added, steel in his voice.

"No you wouldn't," Oz answered with a slight smile after a moment's contemplation. "No one in your line ever has."

"You sound pretty sure of that."

"I'm a keen student of history, though my passion lies in the finer details. People, families and the like. Genealogy would be the technical term."

"I think my great grandmother was big on that too. Never met her though."

"Marlena Arc? Yes, I've read some of her work. Fascinating insight. I could send you a digital copy if you'd like," he added, clearly a subject he enjoyed.

"Sure? I mean, it can't be any worse than Doctor Oobleck's history assignments."

"I'll see to it. After you," he added as the elevator doors slid open.

The slow rhythm of the clockwork gears beneath the green glass floor hid the sound of their footfalls as they both stepped slowly towards the Headmaster's desk. Ozpin took his seat, picking up a tablet-sized scroll and tapping through file menus before he found what he needed. He slid the tablet across the desk, and Jaune caught it just before it reached the edge.

"Fill in the blanks to the best of your ability, everything should be self-explanatory."

"Yes, sir."

"And your Scroll again? I can get it upgraded to the current, secure software while you're managing that."

Jaune absently passed the device across the desk, involved in trying to remember several rarely used personal details required for what he was already calling his resurrection papers. Ozpin set the device onto a corner of his desk, a blue light flickering to life underneath it a second later.

"I'm going to back everything up in the unlikely event something goes wrong."

"Uh, sure." Jaune half-replied, trying to remember the proper spelling of his maternal grandfather's Solitan surname.

"I'll also load that pair of books for you when we're done."

"Thank you, sir," he said, voice barely above a mumble as he concentrated on trying to remember his address prior to their move to what his mother lovingly termed Maison D'Arc while she had been pregnant with Olivia. "I really do appreciate this, sir."

"I would make such an effort for any of my students, Mister Arc," he said sagely, steepling his fingers as he leaned back in his chair slightly. Waiting patiently, Ozpin busied himself with whatever minutiae pertaining to Beacon that he could in between sips of cocoa.

"Hazelnut mocha, sir?" Jaune asked, catching a whiff on the air conditioned breeze.

"You have a good nose."

"My grandparents owned a bakery in Orleans, served a really nice hazelnut roast; went great with Grammy Eloise's madeleines."

"Ah."

"I think that's everything, sir."

"Go ahead and send it to the printer. These requests have to be filed in physical form, with appropriate signatures and countersigned by witnesses."

"How…?"

"File, print, Emerald Tower 1."

"Okay, got it," he replied quickly, the printer under Ozpin's desk beginning to slowly churn out a small stack of forms. The cadence was almost hypnotic, and Jaune felt himself zone out just a bit as Ozpin stood, walking to a small credenza in a forgotten corner of his office. The Headmaster plucked a pen from the top drawer before opening the drawer beneath it and retrieving a wooden box the size of an apple, both actions shielded from Jaune's view by his body.

"I'd forgotten I had this, if I'm being honest," he said absently, taking his seat again and sliding the box across the desk towards Jaune. The expectant look on Ozpin's face prompted him to examine the worn surface of the wood before opening it. An antique silver link chain held a simple golden pendant, shaped in a cruder, or perhaps _older_ version of the twin arcs that made up Jaune's family sigil.

"Why would you have this?" Jaune asked, sure that it was older than he was, probably by a wide margin.

"Tell me, Mister Arc, what do you know about the first of your line?" Ozpin began, loath to repeat information that Jaune might already know.

"Cyrus Arc?" he clarified, getting a nod from the Headmaster as he gathered his own thoughts and memories. "I'm his direct paternal descendant, twenty-third in the line. Cyrus was one of the Lords whose holdings were absorbed into what eventually became the Kingdom of Vale. He ruled Arconis Keep, a castle standing against the Grimm in the days before Huntsmen. He took the Keep from Geb Makarrin, the Monster of the Mists; slew him in single combat. Guess you get to rename things when you're in charge," he added nonchalantly. "I've never heard a good location on it, though. Supposedly it's somewhere around the Bay of Mist here in Vale."

"You're actually standing ten stories above the northwest tower. Its ruins, to be specific."

"How do you know that?"

"I have access to some of the more esoteric historical records in the Beacon Archives. You're also wrong about one thing. Your forebear took his name from the Keep rather than the converse. Cyrus was born Osiris Makarrin." Ozpin paused as Jaune processed the information he'd been given.

"Cyrus killed his own brother?"

"His _father_. Geb was a valiant, and stalwart fighter, but ruled with an iron fist. He believed that only through discipline, strength, and denial of base emotion could the Grimm be held at bay. A philosophy that sadly led to the Great War centuries later." Ozpin paused a moment to allow his words to sink in. "Geb had forbade Osiris to marry his beloved Gwaelin, a servant to the Queen, seeking to bind another noble house to his line instead. To keep his son in line, Gwaelin was sold into bondage. When he discovered what his father had done, Osiris renounced his birthright and pursued the slavers to the ends of Remnant to rescue her."

"But he returned to Arconis, right?"

"He did. At the head of a rebellion against his father. Their final confrontation would put the tragedies of Autolycus and Patroclus to shame. In the end, Geb could not be reasoned with, and so fell to the very sword you bear on your hip. Cyrus cast off his name, adopting the surname of Arc, as a sign that his dedication was to the land and its people."

"Huh. Arc family fights have a long tradition, I guess."

"I suspect there are many families that could claim the same," Ozpin countered with a conspiratorial smile. "That pendant was the betrothal gift Cyrus gave his wife when they married in secret in a desert temple south of present day Vacuo. She later died tragically in childbirth, but their son Horus survived to continue the line. Cyrus was...a broken man after that," Ozpin said softly.

"I can imagine. Well, thanks for sharing that with me, Professor. Here you go," he said, lowering the relic of his family slowly back into its box.

"Keep it. It _is_ your birthright, after all. Just as much as your blade."

"I...I don't know what to say, Professor."

"A simple thank you will be more than sufficient. Though I _would_ beg a favor of you, now that you mention it."

"What's that?"

"I have to give an address to a small group of guests in the Vigil Garden in," he paused to look up at the clock, "twenty minutes. If you would be so kind as to deliver it for me?"

"Sir!?" he replied, eyes wide in alarm.

"Public speaking and the ability to inspire others in the most dire of circumstances is a critical part of a Huntsman's job, Mister Arc. Also, as I will be rather busy making a call to Councilman Wolfe to get this paperwork pushed through as quickly as possible, I will be unavailable. I already have the speech written," he said smoothly, tapping at a tablet Scroll for a few moments before the printer began spitting out yet another sheet of paper even as Ozpin pushed the larger packet of paperwork across his desk. "Signatures on pages two, seven, fourteen and sixteen, initials only on the rest," he added, retrieving the single sheet of paper containing his speech. He looked it over one last time for errors before scratching something out with a single stroke of his pen. Satisfied, he folded the sheet and passed it, the pen and Jaune's Scroll across the desk to Jaune. "Please do check the Beacon intranet for the course catalog for the upcoming year. I can only extend your eligibility for classes so long."

"Yes, sir."

"And do hurry. You don't want to be late."

"My mother always said I'd be late to my own funeral," Jaune joked as he rose, pushing the stack of papers towards Ozpin.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he replied with a cryptic smile.

"And thank you. For everything," he added, extending a gauntleted hand towards Ozpin, who accepted it graciously despite the overeager handshake that followed.

"Please, think nothing of it. You have a bright future here at Beacon, and I would be remiss if I ever let that light be extinguished."

"I...umm...better get going then," he said, slipping the speech into his left pocket, and his new pendant into his right, rather than fumble with armored fingers to try and work the clasp. He stepped quickly to the elevator, finding the car still there and waiting for him.

Ozpin watched the door close from his desk, his eyes narrowing as the boy vanished from his sight. He retrieved his weapon from his pocket, extending the cane and using his thumb to turn the spherical head of the Long Memory a quarter turn, a soft amber glow coming from it before he extinguished it.

With a gesture, a large hardlight display flickered to life above Ozpin's desk, displaying a list of folders. He selected one, and a tiled matrix of thumbnail photos sprang to life. Zooming in, he quickly scrolled through the assembled pictures, finding nothing of note. Humming softly in disappointment, Ozpin flipped back to one picture in particular, expanding it and studying the facial expressions carefully.

Ruby Rose and Jaune Arc were clearly elated, in the foreground with the rest of teams RWBY and JNPR behind them with beaming smiles, the eight of them wearing their Vytal Festival Tournament medals with pride. Even through the smiles, experienced eyes could see the relationships there on display.

The two team leaders had arms over each other's shoulders, Nora Valkyrie clearly had an arm wrapped around Lie Ren's waist, with Pyrrha Nikos's attenton ever so slightly upon her team leader, if her warm smile was any indication. Weiss Schnee had a smile on her face that was far removed from her normal public facade, and Yang Xiao Long was giving a boisterous hug to both her and Blake Belladonna, the latter blushing slightly at the attention. Oz gave a soft smile of his own at that, before pulling up the dorm assignments, switching a pair of teams and smiling a little more. One worked with the assets they were given, after all, and the future of Remnant was far less random than anyone would guess.

Not if _he_ had anything to say on the matter.

* * *

"Advanced wilderness survival?" Jaune mumbled to himself, the class and elective options available to him dizzying in their variety. It seemed like specialization was now the name of the game at Beacon, rather than having a monolithic program of classes. A soft, and now annoyingly familiar, buzz alerted him that the class was already full, much like everything else he'd tried to select. The mandatory second-year curriculum had the obvious entries; combat class, Grimm studies and the like, but they were being afforded far more latitude in the rest of their course load. Well, the _royal_ they, as Jaune found his options rapidly dwindling as the elevator reached the lobby and he exited the car.

Two steps onto the marble tile and he was stopped short, no pun intended, his path blocked by the diminutive form of Professor Thumbelina Peach, the horn-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the tip of her nose a dead giveaway of the elderly woman's identity. A yellow knit shawl graced her shoulders, and her eyes squinted to look up at Jaune for a moment before recognition dawned on her wizened face.

"Well, then, Mister Arc. Looks like you're not dead after all."

"No, ma'am," he replied, forcing a smile. He'd never felt at ease with the slow, nasal drawl of the woman's voice, or her seemingly lethargic demeanor. He once heard another student swear up and down that she was a banana slug Faunus.

"Well then. I suppose I'll have to deal with your antics in my class again."

"Actually, I don't know if I'll have anything with you this year. All the electives seem to be full," he said, carefully not mentioning that he hadn't even considered Peach's botany class as an option.

"Then you'll just have to deal with me teaching Grimm studies then."

"Oh, heheh."

"And of _course_ you finished all your summer reading assignments," she stated more than asked, getting a nervous, frozen grin in response. "Your stunned silence is _very_ reassuring," she droned, walking slowly past him to the elevator.

Once she was out of earshot, Jaune looked at his scroll again, backing out the elective selections before spotting the time display in the upper corner. "Crap!" he shouted, taking up a brisk trot towards the lobby doors as he shoved the device into his pocket. _I could have sworn that elevator ride was faster on the way up!_ his panicked self thought.

The dash to the western side of the campus went quickly, helped by the relative lack of foot traffic, and passing through one of the rows of tall columns that accented the architecture of the campus he finally arrived at his destination. The small plaza was mostly occupied with folding chairs set out on the paving stones, sixty or so in neat rows facing a small mahogany podium with the twin axes of Vale in polished silver on the front. To the right of this was the simple circular dais upon which burned Beacon's Vigil Flame, an eternal monument to the fallen Huntsmen whose names were inscribed upon the dark granite slabs that stood along the border of the garden, the shrubberies behind trimmed to geometric perfection.

Thanking his good fortune, and his footspeed, Jaune straightened himself out for a moment, checking his appearance. A slight twinge of fear made itself known at the notion that he might have misheard the headmaster, but it was banished from his mind at the sight of red hair, cascading over bronze and leather, as Pyrrha Nikos knelt next to one of the panels. She looked just like he remembered, a peerless Huntress and flawless beauty in one exquisite package. Her voice was barely audible as he approached his partner from behind, his steps filled with trepidation. His assertions to Yang aside, _this_ was the reunion he was truly worried about, Pyrrha's fierce protective streak well known and at times a bit smothering to him. Still, he could no longer put this off, and so he took a deep breath, pondering exactly what to say to her.

"...always be there with us, Jaune. I still can't believe they just..._put_ somebody in our dorm. On our team. They've already moved their things in like they _belong_ there," she said with the slightest hint of simmering anger.

Jaune's lips curled into a confident smirk, his words leaving them even before he could stop himself. "That guy really sounds like an insensitive jerk," he began, smiling a bit more as Pyrrha bolted to her feet. "Let's take him 'round back and beat the crap out of him." Pyrrha turned, her green eyes wide in shock as she saw a living ghost before her. "Sorry, couldn't help…" he managed before she crashed into him, her arms gripping him tightly as if he might disappear again, "...myself. Shhhh," he added, returning her hug eagerly, his hand stroking the back of Pyrrha's neck just above her gorget, reassuring her as he felt a sob wrack her frame. "I'm here, okay?"

"Where? _How_?"

"I'll explain everything once we've got everyone together, I promise."

"But…"

"I promise, Pyrrha," he half-whispered into her hair, which smelled faintly of jasmine, another sob threatening to overtake her as she mumbled something into the side of his neck. "What was that?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.

"What? No, Pyrrha, I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, you...I..._we_…" she began, fumbling for the words.

"It's okay. I promise."

"But…"

"Pyrrha? Look at me," he softly implored her, taking half a step back out of her embrace. Pyrrha gasped softly as she felt his hands cradle her cheeks, Jaune's thumbs gently wiping at her tears. "I'm sorry, Pyr. Truly," he added, gazing directly into her eyes. "I don't know everything that happened, but it doesn't matter now. None of it. I'm here, you're here. _We're_ here. _Together_. Okay?" he said softly, her heart beginning to race with the proximity and Jaune's gentle touch. Pyrrha simply nodded, blinking the tears from her eyes, the beginnings of a smile on her lips drawing one out of her partner as well.

"Okay," she replied, her voice a ragged whisper.

"Now that you're here, Pyrrha, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about all summer."

"What is it, Jaune?"

"Well, until it died, I was watching the Scroll videos you sent me. Training with them. You really were a help, you know?"

"I was trying to be," she said with a smile, her right hand now resting on Jaune's shoulder.

"Well, I got to the last one. Where you were talking a little more at the end?"

"Yes?" she prompted him, her own nerves on edge now.

"When you said you were just happy to be a part of my life? You really meant that, didn't you?"

"I meant every word, Jaune. You're special to me. _Important_. I..."

"You're important to me, too, Pyrrha. Sometimes I don't think I say it enough. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I wouldn't be where I am without your help," he said, never breaking eye contact with her.

"Jaune, I…" she began, already strained emotions threatening to crack as she leaned her forehead against his. Her eyes closed serenely as she took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. Jaune could feel the tension between them, apprehensive at what Pyrrha would tell him. What he didn't expect was her eyes flitting wide, her smile evaporating quickly. "Oh _no_," she whispered.

"What?" Jaune asked, Pyrrha's worried expression easily rubbing off on him.

"You don't hear that?" she asked, taking a large step backwards and out of his grasp.

"I...oh, _hell_," he said, finally picking up on a distant sound, not unlike the wail of a steam locomotive rapidly bearing down on him. "Pyrrha," he said plaintively, looking to escape his doom.

"Be brave, Jaune," she replied, biting her lips as he sighed, setting his face into a mask of stoic determination.

"One does not fear what must be," he pronounced with what authority he could muster, spreading his arms wide and accepting his fate. A moment later, a pink and black missile hit him square in the gut, knocking him to the ground with a not-insubstantial weight now resting upon his abdomen. Looking up, he found what he had expected; a bubbly, cheerful Nora Valkyrie looking down at him, her turquoise eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Hey, Nora," Jaune deadpanned.

"Heyyyy, Fearless Leader. Sooooo... How've ya been?" she asked so sweetly that even Jaune understood the question was dangerously loaded.

"Nora," Pyrrha began, doing her best to mitigate Nora's exuberance and potential rage.

"Oh, hey, Pyrrha! I found Jaune!" she added cheerfully, sitting up atop him. A quick, almost malevolent glance dared him to try and escape her sight. Pyrrha couldn't help but smile at her friend's cheerful tone. Nora had been one of the few bright lights in her life over the summer, and her offbeat charm was never unwelcome to her friends. "And _you_, mister. You've got a lot of explaining to do!" she added, jabbing a finger into the tip of his nose.

"I know, Nora. I never meant for any of this to happen, and I'm sorry that I made you all think I was dead."

"Pssh. _I_ knew you weren't _really_ dead," she said dismissively, .

"You had me cook a charity benefit pancake breakfast so that you could erect a twenty foot tall statue of Jaune on the Beacon campus," Lie Ren said, tempering his partner's wild assertion with ease born of experience. "_Twice_."

"I was _preeetty_ sure you weren't really dead," Nora corrected, her gaze sliding away from Jaune's, trying to feign innocence.

"I am glad to see you safe, Jaune," Ren added, grabbing Nora by the sides of her ribcage and lifting her off of his friend. Pyrrha helped Jaune return to his feet as well, and he was finally able to get a good look at the rest of his team.

Ren had shed the loose, Animan-style tunic for a tailed, double-breasted sleeveless coat in the same style, green with silver trim that allowed much more freedom of movement. Compression sleeves covered his arms in black graduating to a subdued pink at the wrist that nearly matched his small shock of magenta hair, capped by embossed steel bands at the bicep. Stormflower now sat on magnetic holsters at mid-thigh, with a crimson braid that accented his hips, tied into an intricate knot at the small of his back. The trousers were still white, but with silver-trimmed, open-toed black boots on his feet.

Nora now wore a simple white shirt, the small, heart-shaped window over the decolletage now bearing a diagonal cut through it. This was covered with a short-sleeved black jacket with pink stripes on the arms, red lining peeking through at the collar. The boots and fingerless gloves were largely unchanged, though her pink skirt was decidedly poofier than the previous year.

"Looking good, you two," Jaune opened with, getting a peeved eyebrow raise from both Ren and Nora before he relented, taking a step forward and embracing them both, Nora's fierce return hug driving the breath from his lungs. "I promise I'll explain everything that I can, but I've got to do something first. Which reminds me, what are you guys doing here?"

The three of them shared a look of concern and confusion, worrying Jaune further until Pyrrha turned to her right, and he followed her gaze to the lower half of the granite panel she'd been talking to. Blue painter's tape bordered a box twelve inches wide and three tall, a few letters freshly engraved in the same font as the hundreds of other names adorning the memorial.

**Jaur**

"They couldn't even get your name done in time," Pyrrha lamented softly.

"In time for what?" Jaune asked, already dreading the answer.

"Seriously?" Nora countered, her voice precariously close to anger once again.

"I…"

"_SEE_! I told you! But nobody _EVER_ listens to me!" screamed an all-too-familiar voice that punched Jaune in the gut for what it portended. Sure enough, he turned and was greeted by the shocked faces of his entire family, save Olivia, who was red with rage at the injustice of it all.

"Umm, hi?" Jaune said simply, trying to force a smile before he was trampled to death, or worse.

In retrospect, what surprised him most was that Violette was the first of his sisters to reach and bury him in a fierce hug. Ivy followed soon after, and beyond that, he lost track of everyone. It didn't help that Vi was blubbering through barely coherent apologies, giving Jaune pause at his normally catty sister's change of heart. He shushed her softly, even given that she was older, returning the mass hug as best he could. "Hey, everybody. It's okay. I'm here, all right? I'm really, _really_ sorry, and I promise I'm going to explain everything in a minute, okay?"

The group of sisters mobbing him couldn't muster a coherent, unified response yet, and thus he simply let them wear themselves out, with him as their rock in the storm. After a moment, Jaune opened his eyes, looking to his parents, who stood with teary eyes as well. Surprisingly, a haggard but still smiling Terra was present also, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. Terra was slightly tense, unsure of how her new family would handle such a momentous reversal of fortune.

Jaune managed to extricate himself from his sisters with minor difficulty, the sea of blond hair parting to allow him passage towards their parents. His pulse roared in his ears as he briskly stepped forward, jaw set as he approached his father, who was beginning to show apprehension through his joy.

"Jaune, I know that…" he began, trying to make peace before a blindingly fast right hook from a gauntleted fist cut him off and launched him into the first row of chairs.

_Swift, decisive, and without reservation, kohai. **Every** strike must be made to end the fight. Your enemy will not allow you another_, he remembered in an adrenaline-fueled burst of clarity.

"Jaune!" his mother screamed in horror, her daughters stunned to silence. "What the hell do you think…?"

"That's enough, Rose," her husband interjected quickly, righting himself with the ease of someone who took such abuse for a living. "I earned that one," he admitted, a wary respect in his cobalt eyes. Jaune himself was still visibly seething, his right fist still clenched should its use still be warranted. "That _one_," Renard Arc emphasized, far better practiced in stubbornness than his son. "I know you're upset, and I am sorry for…"

"No," Jaune growled, stopping Renard dead in his tracks. "I get it, Dad. You had to help the family get through things, give them time to grieve, and to move on. Heal the wounds. I might not have the best grades here at Beacon, but I do pay attention in class," he said as evenly as he could manage given his anger.

"Then why…?"

"Apologize to _her_!" he shouted, pointing to Olivia. "You wouldn't let her go through the process because she was being _difficult_!?" he nearly screamed in anger.

"Jaune...it's not that simple."

"Oh, do tell," he retorted sarcastically.

"Huntsmen are getting scarce across the entire Kingdom, Jaune. There's been some kind of manpower shortage in Mistral, and if you can even find someone for a funeral detail, the cost is astronomical. I ended up pulling two of my mentors out of retirement for it, and one of _them_ is missing an arm!" Renard barked, beginning to lose his cool. Funerals in Orleans were always a problematic affair, as city ordinance forbade cemeteries within the walls of the city, much like countless towns and settlements across Remnant. "I was burying my son. I'll be damned if I was going to lose another child!"

"You could have asked my team."

"They were grieving too, Jaune. They had to recover just like we did."

"Ren could've handled it with his Semblance," Jaune countered, feeling the high ground slowly slipping from his grasp.

"I didn't know that, Jaune."

"Did you ask?"

"How the hell was I supposed to know? I was barely keeping it together myself. I had to be strong for your mother and sisters and just bottle my own emotions. _I_ couldn't grieve, Jaune. Not yet. I can only pray to the Gods that you never have to make that decision, son."

Jaune sighed heavily, his anger subsiding to a slow simmer as he closed his eyes. "How long did you actually hold on to hope, Dad?"

"You are my _son_, Jaune. Even when I knew I should have, I never gave up," he added, his eyes misting over.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

Renard paused, rubbing at his jaw for a moment. "Perhaps I do," he said softly, "But it's no less genuine, Jaune. You are, and will always be my little boy. Maybe I need to forget that sometimes."

"You need another reminder, let me know," Jaune replied, the barest hint of a cocky smirk curling his lip.

Renard gave him a brief glare, more of a narrowing of the eyes before he nodded solemnly, beginning to crack a smile afterwards.

"Are you two done?" Rose asked pointedly, and her son and husband both winced slightly, knowing full well the significance of her sharp tone.

"Yeah, Mom."

"Yes, dear," Renard muttered, idly shifting a chair back into position with his foot.

"Good," she said firmly, taking three quick steps to crush her only son in a hug that gave bear traps a run for their money. "Don't you ever do that again, Jaune," she whispered hoarsely, her tears beginning to flow in earnest.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said softly, fighting his own guilt at making his mother cry. "Really, I am. I'll explain everything, I promise."

"You'd better," she growled in her best angry mom tone.

Jaune's arms were still firmly around his mother when a soft, burbling coo could be heard over the slight murmur of crowd noise. Jaune turned his eyes, finding Terra fussing over her son with a tired, but beaming, smile. The new mother was placating him with a pacifier for the time being, her attention focused on Adrian rather than the rest of her family.

"That's…" Jaune began, his emotions more than a little conflicted seeing the boy. While the concept of fatherhood, no matter how distant, had been a little weird, seeing the boy there in the flesh was simply surreal.

"That's Adrian. Your _son_, Jaune," Saphron said from his side. He was so distracted by everything that he hadn't even heard her approach. Sensei would have had him spitting up blood for inattentiveness like that. Then her words sunk in, or rather the fact that she'd spoken them in earshot of everyone.

"Saph?!"

"It's okay, Jaune. They _know_."

"I thought you wanted to keep that a secret!"

"We did. Then we thought you were dead. I...I wanted Dad to know we still had a little piece of you around."

Jaune looked to his father again, who was regarding him with a curious look, one Jaune had never seen before. "Your mother's right, Jaune. Not many men would do what you did. Especially lying to your own father to protect a secret," he added with a pointed glance.

"I didn't!" Jaune retorted, getting a raised eyebrow from Renard Arc. "Technically?"

"Ren," Rose Arc gently prodded her husband.

"You can let go of me now, Mom."

"No."

"Okay," Jaune replied, quickly surrendering the point. "But I do want you all to meet my team. Hey, guys! Come over here, there's someone I want you to meet. A lot of someones, actually," he clarified, managing to wrangle his mother's hug down to one arm. Pyrrha, Ren and Nora approached, appearing a mite cautious with the rambunctious Arc clan giving them all sorts of different looks. Pyrrha looked especially terrified, given the awestruck gaze of Olivia and Violette, and was almost pale as she came to his side.

"Okay, everybody, these fine people are the rest of my team here at Beacon. Pyrrha Nikos," he indicated with a free hand.

"_The_ Pyrrha Nikos," Olivia whispered reverently.

"No, just _a_ Pyrrha Nikos. Due to popular demand, she comes in six packs now," Jaune replied, trying to defuse his partner's trepidation. Judging by her nervous smile, it wasn't working nearly as well as he'd hoped. "Nora Valkyrie," he continued. "She's the quiet one," he stage whispered, getting a harumph from the girl. "And my one and only brother, since _somebody_ couldn't give me another one, Lie Ren," he finished, reiterating a gripe the rest of his family knew all too well. "Guys, this is my father, Renard."

"Just call me Ren," he said magnanimously.

"That might cause confusion, sir," the younger Ren replied evenly.

"Oh? Mistrali?" Renard asked, taking in Ren's appearance.

"Close enough," the younger man confirmed.

"My mother, Rose. In order, my oldest sister, Saphron. Marguerite, Violette, Olivia there with the weapons," he continued, breaking Liv out of her trance.

"Hi," she said with a tiny wave of the hand, still starstruck it seemed.

"Pearl, Peri, and the best little sister in the world, Ivy," he finished, ruffling the young girl's hair for emphasis, getting a squeak of protest from her.

"And this is Terra, my sister-in law," he said, regarding the out-of-place woman with a welcoming gaze. "And her, well, _our_, son, Adrian. It's a long story," he added, unsure why Ren and Nora were looking so confused.

"You're not...married?" Pyrrha asked, surprise writ large upon her face.

"Oh, damn it, not you guys too!"

"What?!" Saphron asked with a combination of mirth and shock in her voice.

"Well, _someone_ thought it was a good idea to tell all of our friends that Terra and I were married," Jaune grumbled.

"I blame Yang," Nora piped up. "Now, _I_ didn't believe it for a second," she added with a beaming smile.

"You were demanding trial by combat with anyone who wanted to be Adrian's godmother," Ren interjected.

"Not helping," Nora replied melodically through her toothy grin.

Jaune could only chuckle at his teammates' antics. The return to what now passed as normal for him was definitely a breath of fresh air. His family, both parts of it, was here with him, and life was beginning to look up for the first time in weeks. _Wait_…

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you all here?"

The look on Renard Arc's face would have been priceless to Jaune, were he not on the receiving end of it. His father was dumbfounded beyond any measure Jaune had ever seen, and he grew more unnerved as the moment stretched on. Catching a glimpse of movement, his gaze slipped over his father's shoulder, seeing the rest of his audience beginning to gather at the entrance to the Vigil Garden. Many were faces that he didn't recognize, but the few he did stood out.

Coco Adel stood solemnly in her typical mixture of browns and blacks that somehow never managed to look actually _drab_, a grim set to her normally haughty smirk, Gianduja slung easily over her shoulder. Her trademark black beret and sunglasses were in place, bringing her outfit together in typically flawless fashion. Velvet Scarlatina was a short distance away, taking a knee to speak with a young Mistrali girl no older than eight. The girl was wearing a formal kimono in flawless white silk with a black obi, a ridiculously tall woman standing beside them identically dressed. The third member of the apparent Mistrali family was an older man, no taller than Weiss in heels, the long hilt of a nagamaki rising from the scabbard at his waist to eye level for him. His outfit consisted of the full armor of a traditional Mistrali warrior poet, lacquered leather scales overlapped in an ornate pageantry of blacks, reds and golds, a full helm held under his arm.

Behind them was a nattily dressed Flynt Coal, his easygoing charm and snappy threads muted by the tired look on the young man's face. Neon Katt was at his side, a gaudy miniskirt and scandalously short top not quite matching her short, spiked orange hair. She was wearing what looked like white synthetic leather boots with platform soles, until Jaune realized that they were in fact prosthetics. He'd wondered what had happened to the ebullient girl after the Battle of Beacon, and now he had his answer. Speaking with Flynt was an older gentleman in an Atlesian Army uniform, a black beret perched above a grizzled, scarred face that still somehow projected some measure of warmth behind the stony visage. Doctor Oobleck was the only member of the Beacon faculty present, and even _his_ typically manic energy seemed muted.

The briefest of moments had passed as he took the tableau in, Sensei's drills on observation having myriad uses beyond picking apart an opponent's defenses. Then the realization pooled in his stomach like he'd swallowed five pounds of lead shot.

"He didn't," Jaune muttered, dread already foremost in his mind as he reached into his pocket. He read the first few lines on the paper Ozpin had given him, his free hand his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose in resigned exasperation. "He _did_," he muttered darkly.

"Son?" Renard asked, still unsure of where the problem lay.

"Dad? Can you get everyone settled? I've...I've got a speech to give."

"You?" he replied, eyes wide in shock.

"I'd be offended, but...yeah, _me_." Jaune sighed, giving his mother a brief hug to tide her over before he finally broke free of her embrace. "I've got to do this, Mom. Should be just a couple minutes, okay? I'll be right over there, I swear," he added, knowing full well how paranoid his mother could get when she entered mama bear mode.

"We've got reservations at the Greenbriar afterwards, Jaune. We can get everything straightened out over dinner. Adding one more to a party of thirteen shouldn't be an issue," he added, Jaune doing the mental math and realizing that his team had been included in the invitation.

"Okay. Mind if I invite our sister team? They're in Vale right now."

"I'm not sure they could fit us in, Jaune," he said skeptically, though his son knew that the financial outlay was likely the issue.

"You wanna meet Weiss Schnee again, Mom?"

"Yes!" Rose replied with wide eyes.

"That's dirty pool, son," Renard grumbled.

"A fight worth having is a fight worth winning," he echoed again, a faint thought that he hoped his father wouldn't react the same way Qrow Branwen had.

"I see. Come on, kids, let's get settled so Jaune can do his thing, okay?" Renard reminded them, ushering the gaggle of Arc daughters and Terra to occupy a row and a half of the carefully arranged chairs with Pyrrha, Ren and Nora sliding in next to them.

Jaune read quickly through his speech twice, leaving the second half be for the moment, as that was the easy part of it. Satisfied that he hadn't been given something in Old Solitan, and having a pretty good grasp on how to pronounce everything there, he walked over to the podium, taking his place behind it and placing his speech on top of it, weighing it down with his closed scroll against the gentle breeze blowing through the poplar trees behind him. He tapped the tip of the slender microphone attached to the podium, getting a satisfactory pop from the set of speakers to either side of the audience.

That singular noise sparked a wave of motion in the small crowd, the one thing that stood out to him was Coco's slack-jawed amazement as she lowered her sunglasses to confirm what she was actually seeing. Perhaps his tale truly was out of the ordinary, but having actually lived it, Jaune was beginning to feel a little peeved at how impossible everyone seemed to treat his very _existence_. But that was not the reason he was here right now, and so he shoved it into the dark recesses of his mind as best he could.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" Jaune asked, hoping he sounded more confident than he actually felt at the moment. "If you'll take your seats, we can begin shortly." The crowd slowly took their seats, and Jaune was simultaneously nervous and glad for the presence of his family and teammates. They both reassured him and were the people he least wanted to disappoint, and so he took a deep breath, and began to read.

"Colleagues. Friends. Family. We gather today to honor and remember those who have fallen in defense of life and liberty. From time immemorial, and with names and titles more varied than the Lost Nations of Remnant, Huntsmen and Huntresses have fought against the darkness that threatens our world. Through their training, their skill, and most importantly their courage, Huntsmen stand between civilization and the abyss that threatens to consume us all." He paused here momentarily, his own feelings on the fall of Shion not something he was proud of.

"It is not a burden shouldered easily, nor is it a peaceful life. So many stories that will never be told, so many moments, lost to the Grimm. Those precious few who heed the call to serve their fellows will never know the true depth of gratitude owed them. We can only honor their service, preserving their names and legacies to posterity, and to inspire those who take up the fight in their stead."

"And thus, as we do at the start of every school year, we add the names of Beacon Academy alumni who have passed beyond the veil, their names now engraved upon the memorial before you," Jaune added with a slight flourish of his hand, thinking better of it almost immediately. _What other memorial would you be talking about, Yak Boy?_ he could almost hear Sensei berate him.

Banishing that thought from his head, Jaune began to read once again, each name spoken with as much reverence and respect as he could muster. Most of the names elicited a quiet nod, or a shed tear, perhaps even a softly whispered prayer from someone in attendance, his own guilt ramping up yet again as he saw the sadness before him. He would never allow himself or any of his friends to end up on a wall somewhere; not if he had anything to say about it.

"Fox Alistair. Lawrence Appleton," he began, before having to pause a moment to skip over his own, crossed out name _Thanks, Ozpin. Never would've remembered otherwise,_ he mused dryly, before the next name _truly_ gave him pause.

"Sable Carter," he said a little more softly than the first two. While he hadn't known her beyond passing interactions during the Vytal Tournament, the notion that a strong, confident Huntress like Sable had been plucked from the world at her age was quite sobering.

"Harriet Cedar. Ray Crawford. Samantha Crowne. Yatsuhashi Daichi," he continued, giving a quick glance to an openly weeping Velvet, Coco's stony face betraying little as she comforted her teammate, his own eyes misting over a bit.

"Midori Fujimori. Ivori Goldsmith. Darren Graves. Jarrod Lamp. Leonardo Lionheart. Penny Polendina. Peter Port. Marten Reed. Kobalt Schwarz. Julia Tamarind. Oliver Umber. Sylvia Wren." Jaune paused again as he finished the list, hearing a choked sob from somewhere. He chose not to find the source, lest he lose his now tenuous bearing before the conclusion of the ceremony.

"May their souls find the peace they forsook in life, and their memories give us hope when all seems lost. Thank you all for your attendance; may your pain fade with time, but your memories never dim." Jaune took a deep breath and exhaled, waiting for the crowd to stand and begin mingling before he stepped down from the podium, his fingers trembling slightly as his nerves finally caught up to him. His eyes were downcast as he closed in on his family, feeling a hand close over his own.

He blinked and smiled softly at Pyrrha, her reading his turbulent emotional state a welcome gesture. "You did wonderfully, Jaune," she said with a soft smile of her own, patting the back of his hand.

"Thanks, Pyr," he said, looking up and into her eyes, reminded once again just how beautiful his partner truly was.

"I believe we were promised an explanation, oh Fearless Leader?" Nora chimed in, irrevocably breaking the moment. Jaune caught Pyrrha blushing slightly at her friend's bluntness, as well as a narrowing of the eyes from his mother of all people. This spiked Jaune's adrenaline once again, as it was a universal sign that Rose Arc had a mystery to solve, and Dust forbid anyone get in her way.

"Not here, Nora. Dad? How about we all wander over to the dorms? It's not far, and we won't be interrupting anyone else here. Plus, we're going to need some privacy for this."

"That's not a good sign," Renard Arc said dryly.

"Besides, you'll probably want to get a look at the new dorms anyway, and the girls too."

His father sighed softly, logic overcoming his need for immediate answers. "Lead the way," he said with resignation in his voice.

* * *

"And you expect us to go along with this, Jaune?!" Rose Arc demanded, the fourteen of them crammed into the common room of Team JNPR's suite.

"I gave my word, Mom," Jaune gamely tried to placate his mother.

"Gods save me from stubborn Arc men!" she scoffed, daring anyone to gainsay her.

"Yes. He is a man, Mrs. Arc. A brave, kind and honorable man, and the best friend I've ever had," Pyrrha pronounced, her back straight as she waded into the emotional morass. "He does all of you credit with how he's conducted himself since getting to Beacon, and I'm not going to stand aside and let my friend, my _partner_, be talked to like this!" she continued, Nora taken aback by the show of temper from the normally calm Pyrrha. The only person Nora knew calmer than her was Ren, and that was saying something. Rose's eyes were wide at the outburst as well, the fire and conviction on display cowing even her maternal ire.

"Pyr?" Jaune began quietly, hoping to get things calm again. "Thanks, but I've got this," he said, patting her shoulder before turning to his mother. "Mom, I know you don't like this. You've made it super clear, okay? But if I can't keep my word, what kind of man am I? Certainly not one worthy of bearing the sword, or the crest, let alone my _name_," he admitted, remembering and digging for the pendant he'd been gifted. "Couldn't even wear this," he added, dangling the jewelry up for his parents to see. Rose regarded the bauble with skepticism while her husband examined it carefully, his expression a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

"Where did you get that, Jaune?"

"Professor Ozpin had it, said he'd forgotten completely about it. Supposedly belonged to Gwaelin Arc," he added offhandedly, stopping when he saw his father's face pale at the revelation.

"Jaune, that pendant hasn't been seen in our family's hands for over two hundred years. The only Arc family heirloom older than that is Crocea Mors," Renard said solemnly.

"Oh, umm, cool? I mean, it's back in the family again, right?" he said with an awkward grimace. It was just a necklace, _right_? "Mom? You think you could do me a favor here? You were always good with the girls when it came to jewelry." he asked, wiggling his gauntleted, and not particularly dextrous, fingers.

"Jaune, I love you, but you're hopeless sometimes," Rose said, rubbing her temples before she let out a sigh of maternal frustration. "C'mere," she grumbled, taking the chain from him and deftly working the clasp with a surgeon's fingers. "You really need a haircut, son," she half-whispered near his ear before she leaned back, her job done for now.

"I know, and thanks, Mom. How's it look?"

"You were born to wear it, Jaune," his father said. "Quite literally, but still. Just don't be giving that away to impress some pretty girl."

"Dad, it's a family heirloom, of course I'm not going to lose it."

"Well, it was also used as a betrothal gift in the early days of our family."

"I..._oh_," he replied softly as the realization hit him, not noticing Nora gently jab Pyrrha with an elbow. "Yeah, that's definitely not in the cards for a while."

"You'd better not be getting any girls pregnant either, Jaune," Rose chimed in.

"Like he could even _get_ a girlfriend, Mom," Violette interjected with a sneer before Jaune could reply, her emotions having settled into her normal, barely concealed hostility.

"Oh, you never know. A big, strong, kind, generous, brave and handsome man who looks like he'll be even better looking when he gets older? What's not to love, huh, Pyrrha? It's violent, err, _Violet_, right?" Nora asked, cracking her knuckles loud enough to be heard across the hall and three doors down. Vi got the message loud and clear, her already fair skin going slightly paler at the threat of violence from a maniacally grinning Nora. Pyrrha's hand on Nora's shoulder turned the shorter girl's head far enough to see the slight shake of the head she was being given.

"Did you guys bring your luggage too?" Jaune asked his team, desperately trying to change the subject before his emotionally charged family got into each other again.

"Yes, Jaune," Ren replied in his smooth, even diction.

"Okay. Dad, do you think you can take the family and give us a minute? We'll meet you at the Aurelius statue in...fifteen minutes or so? Then you'll all get the grand tour courtesy of Vytal Tournament silver medalists Team JNPR!" he said, trying to sell it as best he could.

"You'd better not…" Rose began.

"No, I'm not going to disappear again! Nora would break my legs first."

"Guilty!" Nora chirped with entirely too much cheer for Jaune or his parents to feel comfortable.

"All right. Potty breaks everyone. We're not going to be stopping every fifteen minutes," Rose chided her girls, well-accustomed to riding herd on eight kids. Everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving JNPR a moment to breathe.

"Sooo, whaddya think?" Jaune asked.

"Violet keeps ragging on you and she's gonna regret it," Nora growled.

"I'm used to it, Nora, I promise."

"Doesn't make it right," she grumbled, her dark mood easing a bit when Ren's hand found the nape of her neck, eliciting a soft, shuddering coo of pleasure from her.

"How 'bout you, Pyr? I know Liv and Vi can be a bit much, but I think everyone else is fine with treating you like I do."

"Nobody treats me quite like you do, Jaune. But yes, they're a wonderful family. I can see so much of them in you. Like Nora said, what's not to love?" she added with a blush.

"That's the spirit!" Jaune replied, glad to have at least some backup dealing with his sisters and parents for the rest of the day.

"It's good to see another Huntress in the making as well," Ren added with a soft smile of approval.

"And, oh my gosh those weapons of hers look _really_ nice," Nora added, channeling Ruby Rose for a moment.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me!" Jaune crowed, his eyebrows shooting upwards in the excitement he felt in finally fulfilling a promise. "I've got something for you two."

"You really didn't have to, Jaune," Ren reassured him.

"Oh, shush, Renny! Gimme the goods, Jaune-Jaune!"

He went back into his, well, their bedroom, hoping Ren wouldn't mind the bed he'd already picked out for himself. Opening his suitcase, he pulled out the wooden box he'd been given what seemed like decades ago, returning to the common room and handing it to Ren.

"Jaune, this…"

"Isn't from me," he quickly interjected, causing Ren to arch a brow in confusion. "Open it," he added with a knowing smirk. Ren complied, lifting the lid of the box slowly before his eyes went wide.

"Jaune, this is definitely too much," he began, pulling a pristine pistol slide from the box. It belonged to an Atlesian CP11, deep bluing giving the metal a glossy black finish that gleamed in the light. Lovingly engraved into the side opposite the ejection port was Ren's personal emblem, a lotus highlighted in gold against the dark metal. The classic lines were enhanced with a new style compensator, identical to Olivia Arc's Fang katar.

"Ooh, pretty!" Nora opined. "That'll look really great with your green! Which one will you use it on?"

"There are two, Nora," he informed her, pulling its mate from the box with a soft chime as the slabs of metal struck each other.

"Oooooh, what'd I get?" she asked, her excitement barely contained now.

"I think it's that paper, Nora," Jaune said, trying to keep his calm before Hurricane Nora unloaded on them all.

"Umm, okay?" she said, cocking an eyebrow in confusion, plucking the slip of well-worn paper, wrinkles and a few stains marring the sheet. "Flour, eggs, sugar, cheese… This isn't a present, it's _work_! What the hell?! Ren gets sweet weapon upgrades and I get a shopping list?" She tossed the paper aside, only for her partner to pluck it easily from midair. "This is the worst kind of discrimination! The kind against me!" she railed as Ren read the list, his eyes going wide as realization set in.

"Where did you get this?" he asked Jaune, his voice overwhelmed with awestruck wonder. Even Nora was halted mid-rant at the normally stoic Ren's emotion. Jaune simply moved his left hand to the hilt of Crocea Corax, gently jiggling the Tigan weapon braid affixed to the pommel.

"Ren? What's the matter?" Nora asked, a twinge of familiarity nibbling at the edge of her thoughts at Jaune's gesture.

"This is _Bunică_ Mari's recipe for _papanasi_."

Nora gasped in shock, looking to Ren, then the recipe, then Jaune, then back to the recipe, and one more time to Jaune. "Ren?"

"Yes, Nora?"

"I know I said, but...may I? Just this once?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

Jaune and Pyrrha both could only wonder at the strange conversation their teammates were having for the moment it took Ren to think over his response.

"Sure," Ren said, shrugging slightly.

Jaune didn't have time to blink, as Nora leapt into his arms with her legs wrapping around his abdomen before she grabbed both of his cheeks and planted an energetic kiss directly on Jaune's startled lips. She hummed happily through it all, several long seconds passing before she finally let go and dropped to her feet with an electric smile.

"Not bad, Fearless Leader, but still not good enough for _this_ Queen," she mocked him gently, Jaune's words sputtering uselessly before they'd made it out of his mouth. "You can have him though, Pyr-Pyr." Pyrrha was too shocked to be angry at the giggling Nora, her jawbone halfway to the floor. "You're making us some, Ren!"

"We're going to dinner soon, Nora,"

"Now, Ren!" she barked petulantly.

"Tomorrow morning, Nora. I promise."

"Aww, but…"

"Tomorrow," Ren reminded her firmly. "Tonight, we're going to have dinner with Jaune and his family."

"Aaaand what about..._dessert_?" Nora asked, a dangerously mischievous grin tugging at her lips as she waggled her eyebrows.

"Yes, Nora. After dinner," Ren reassured her with a slight smile.

"Okay!" she replied, back to her usual high-energy sweetness.

"What just happened, Pyrrha?" Jaune whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, blinking slowly at the madness she'd welcomed back into her life with open arms.

"Oh, you guys are going to love _papanasi_. They're like donuts, but..._more_! And bigger!"

"Glad I could make you happy, I guess. Casian wanted me to tell you he's very proud of you, by the way. He's quite fond of you both. Magda, Elena and Nicolai, too," Jaune added helpfully, noting how Nora's expression darkened at the mention of Casian's family.

"I would never have thought he'd take on a _gadjo_ as a student, Jaune. He _does_ wield a sword, though," Ren added thoughtfully.

"He didn't."

"Oh."

"Please don't make this a thing, guys. I already have Yang nagging me about my Sensei, and it's annoying, even if it's only been two days."

"We _worry_, Jaune. And we have every right to," Pyrrha countered, pulling his shoulder so that he faced her. "This team wouldn't be the same without you," she said softly, her eyes misting over slightly.

"Okay. One more time, I'm really, _really_ sorry about everything that happened. I've already told you everything I can, I promise. I just want to get back to being Team JNPR again, okay?"

"Okay," Pyrrha half-whispered, a bittersweet smile blooming on her face. She squeaked in surprise when Jaune leaned forward and embraced her, Nora quickly dragging Ren and herself into the lovefest as well.

"I love you guys," Nora said, squeezing her three teammates fiercely.

"I love breathing, too, Nora," Jaune gasped out, prompting her to release them all.

"Party pooper," Nora grumbled.

"We can all hang out together tomorrow, okay?" Jaune pleaded, trying to placate Nora before she got into mischief that even Ren couldn't rein in without significant collateral damage. "Maybe catch a movie or two?" he suggested, hoping to get some agreement from his team so that he could catch a few of the films he'd missed from the last few months.

"That sounds lovely, Jaune," Pyrrha chimed in with a warm smile.

"Cool! I hope you don't mind me taking the bed next to the window, Ren. I got used to fresh air when I sleep over the summer."

"I don't have a problem with it, Jaune, but…"

"Good! It's just nice to finally be able to give you girls some privacy," Jaune said cheerfully.

"What are you…?" Nora began before she understood the implication. "Nope! Not happening!"

"Nora, I respect you two too much to…"

"Nope!" Nora interrupted him.

"But…"

"You are _not_ separating me and Ren, Jaune, and that's final."

"What if he accidentally sees you naked, Nora?"

"Pssh, like _that_ would ever happen," she scoffed easily.

"You can't say that for sure!"

"Yes I can."

"No, you can't."

"_Yes_, I _can_," she retorted, beginning to grind her teeth.

"How?"

"Because, Fearless Leader, if Ren's going to see me naked, _it won't be an accident_," she concluded in a stage whisper, complete with a devious smile.

"There are better ways to announce our relationship, Nora," Ren calmly pronounced.

"Yeah? Well...Jaune was being a stupidhead," she replied, crossing her arms with a grumpy frown.

"Really?" Jaune asked. "I'm so happy for you both!" he added with a smile. "I mean, it was always gonna be you two, right, Pyrrha?"

"Right," she said with a nervous smile, obviously conflicted about the news.

"Well, I guess it's you and me then, partner! Need help moving any of your stuff into our bedroom?" Jaune asked, pausing for a moment at Pyrrha's blush.

"That almost sounds like you two're married, Pyrrha," Nora interjected mischievously.

"Oh, heheh. That's...preposterous, Nora. We've never even been on a date," Pyrrha added, the smile on her face slipping ever so slightly.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Pyr," Jaune said softly, scratching at the back of his neck.

She sighed lightly in response, glad to have Jaune back to his mostly normal self, it seemed. "It's all right, Jaune. You didn't mean to offend, I'm sure."

"Yeah," he said, pausing a moment. "Have any of you been to the Greenbriar before?" he asked, changing the subject before the conversation died. "They've got the _best_ cheddar biscuits!" he added, trying to sell the place and placing the focus away from his family, for Pyrrha's sake at least.

"Still want _papanasi_," Nora grumbled under her breath.

"Tomorrow, Nora," Ren reminded her gently, punctuating it with a brief, nuzzling kiss to the top of her head. Jaune and Pyrrha both smiled at the dopey grin such a small gesture could get from the normally hyperkinetic girl.

"S'not fair you can do that now," she mumbled in complaint.

"Would you like me to stop?" Ren asked her.

"Nooooo," she pouted.

"Because I can, if you want…" he began before he was silenced by Nora smashing her lips into his.

"You're lucky I love you, Ren," she gasped when she finally released her boyfriend.

"I'm well aware," he replied simply with the warmest smile Jaune had ever seen on his friend's face.

"I think we're all lucky, Nora. I don't think I could handle those kisses on a daily basis," Jaune said with a chuckle.

"Because my man is the best boyfriend in Remnant! So sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and…" she trailed off, a manic giggle heard as she thought of something perhaps better left unsaid.

"And?" Jaune asked, regretting it instantly when he saw her turquoise eyes light up with extra mischief.

"And he gives the _best_ slothback rides!" she proclaimed gleefully, leaping onto Ren's back. Her arms draped over his shoulders and crossed over his chest, her powerful legs getting a firm grip around his waist. "Onward, faithful steed! Your Queen commands you take her to dinner!" she demanded before resting her chin on Ren's shoulder and nuzzling affectionately into his neck. For his part, Ren dutifully bore her madness in stride, much as he had done for a decade now, but with a bigger smile on his face. The two lovers teetered briefly before Ren found his footing, and then the door, taking them into the hallway and towards their rendezvous with the rest of the Arcs.

"I swear, those two," Jaune said, chuckling softly before an idea hit him, a mischievous grin of his own forming as Pyrrha's smile grew more nervous at what her partner's mind had come up with. "I bet we can beat them to the statue, Pyrrha. I've got more practice with this," he added, leaning forward and presenting his back to his partner.

"You're being silly, Jaune."

"That's not a no."

She gave a soft giggle at his statement, the sheer absurdity of the situation putting to bed any doubts she had. Her partner, her _Jaune_, was back, and in every way that counted. "No, it wasn't," she agreed, hesitating a bit before awkwardly crawling onto his back.

"You've never done this before, have you?" Jaune asked her, his hands lifting her by the back of her toned thighs.

"Not really, no," she confessed sadly.

"Well then, hang on. And get the door?" he asked her, Pyrrha electing to use her Semblance rather than risk losing her grip. This turned out to be a prudent decision when Jaune began to slowly build up speed as he ran down the hall, Pyrrha barely recognizing her own voice as her shrieks of joyful terror filled the corridor.

Nora gasped in surprise and outrage when they blew past her and Ren, her brow furrowing in anger soon after. "Such an affront to the Crown will not be forgiven, knaves! After them, my steed!"

* * *

OMAKE

This was the original Jaune/Blake scene from the previous chapter, before someone reminded me how a throwaway line in a forgettable episode of canon contradicted it. To the fine reviewer who pointed that out, thank you.

* * *

"Oh, _hey_...Blake…" he trailed off, his eyes flicking upwards for the briefest of moments.

Her amber eyes caught the movement easily, and combined with the look of worry that bordered on distaste, her heart sank. She'd never thought _Jaune_ of all people would harbor any ill will towards her heritage, especially after he'd stood up to Cardin on Velvet's behalf, yet here it was.

"Umm, I know you might not want to hear this, Blake," he began hesitantly, all four girls now on edge. "But I don't know that you really want to be walking around in public like that."

"Jaune?" Ruby asked, her eyes wide in shock.

"I mean, I know I'm not an expert, and never _can_ be, but I practically grew up in the Faunus quarter of Orleans. I mean, jeez, my grandmother would lay into you something fierce for..."

"What the hell, Jaune!?" Yang demanded angrily.

"You're right, that's not important. Just suffice to say that most of my friends growing up were Faunus."

"Wait…" Weiss said, now more confused than ever.

"Not that I _had_ that many," he muttered, "but they always had it rough! Even in a progressive city like Orleans. To belittle their struggle by playing at being one yourself isn't just rude, it's cultural appropriation." Blake's look of horror had now transitioned to utter confusion as the blond idiot babbled on. "It trivializes what _actual_ Faunus go through every day. I would've thought you would be sensitive to things like that."

"Umm, Jaune?" Blake tried to interject, her feline ears slowly returning to normal from their pinned back position.

"Now, now, Blake. Don't interrupt him," Yang chided, doing an admirable job of not breaking out into howling laughter.

"Thank you, Yang. Anyway, if you want to express your 'inner cat'," he began, complete with air quotes, "there are better ways to do it." Blake fixed him with a cold stare that even Jaune could properly interpret, and he began to backpedal. "Don't get me wrong! I mean, I've always kind of seen you as a cat. I'm no tailchaser," he continued, the pejorative used for humans who fetishised Faunus a surprising part of Jaune's vocabulary to Blake, "but they _really_ look good on you."

"Now you're hitting on my partner, Jaune?" Yang asked, her voice dripping with innuendo. The shit-eating grin she now wore wasn't exactly dissuading him from feeling like it was the Yang Xiao Long comedy hour once again.

"No! It's just...I mean, you've always been kind of catlike, you know? A cool, aloof beauty that'll claw your eyes out if you pet her the wrong way. But under all that, she's got a cute, playful side. Honestly, that's Blake to a T." Jaune stated sagely.

"He's not wrong," Weiss remarked wryly, her eyes rolling even as Yang's went wide at his insight.

"I know you're not a racist, Blake."

"Understatement of the year," Yang muttered through her smile.

"I just don't know that you've thought through what your actions might make others feel."

Yang finally lost it at that one, devolving into snorts of intermittent laughter that had Blake blushing and trying to hide a smile herself.

"I'll keep that in mind," Blake at last conceded, smirking softly.

Jaune took a deep breath and sighed, glad that the tension had been dispelled at last. "But seriously, where did you get those?"

"From my mother," she replied, her smirk growing further.

"Wow, that's...unexpected. Because those are _really_ lifelike, they even…move..." he trailed off, squinting slightly as he leaned forward a hair. "Fuck me, those are real, aren't they?" he said softly, facepalming in shame.

"YES!" all four girls replied in unison.

"Blake...I am so, _so_ sorry. I didn't know! Wait...How the hell did I not know?" he demanded, scratching the back of his neck.

"Don't feel too bad. These three couldn't tell for an entire semester, and I _lived_ with them," Blake offered dryly.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking at the rest of Team RWBY, who were various degrees of embarrassed at the revelation.

"Jaune?" Blake began, and his heart sank in shame.

"Yeah?" he replied timidly.

"That is without a doubt the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."

"I know," he said, hanging his head.


	16. First Impressions

**Chapter 16**

**First Impressions**

Olivia Arc was busy waving to the rest of her family as she departed, Rose and Renard firmly reassured by Taiyang Xiao Long that he and Team RWBY would see the Signal Academy freshman safely back to her dorm. The girls chatted amongst themselves, while Tai simply enjoyed the reminder of better days. Team STRQ at their best being a tight cohesive unit much like Ruby seemed to be fostering after a single school year. He could only hope they would stick together better than his own team had in the end.

"Well, _that _was a thing," Yang said, voicing a collective assessment it seemed.

"But you walked in there gushing about '_my people_'!" Ruby mocked, complete with air quotes.

"Yeahhh, but there's only so much blonde you can put in one room before it gets overwhelming."

"We know, Yang. We know," Weiss chimed in. "We spent an entire year with _you_, after all."

"You know you love me."

"And Jaune's mother? She was really nice!" Ruby added optimistically.

"And really, _really_, intrusive. She knew every little detail of my life, _except_, apparently, my calling to be a Huntress. Plus, I had to spend half of dinner being diplomatic with her when I had to tell her that I wasn't dating her son. Thanks for _that_, Yang."

"At least she _talked _to you, Weiss," Blake retorted. "All she did with me was give me the strangest look from across the table, like she was trying to figure out who let the Faunus into the room."

"Maybe you're overthinking it? None of the rest of the family batted an eyelash about your ears or anything," Yang countered.

"Maybe. I'm just glad we're out of there and into some fresh air," Blake replied.

"Yeah, it can be pretty crazy sometimes. I'm just thankful Dad's an only child, and Mom's brothers and sister aren't around," Olivia utterly failed to reassure Blake. "I've never even met 'em."

"That's actually kind of sad," Weiss of all people piped up.

"We get by," Olivia replied with some bluster that she almost managed to sell to the rest of them. "We're not perfect or anything, but we all love each other. Yeah, even Violette," she added with a smirk.

"Well, I, for one, am glad I finally got to meet your brother, Olivia," Tai said with a genuine smile. "I can't thank him enough for what he did. My girls are the most important thing in the world to me."

"Ugh, you sound like my _dad_," Liv grumbled.

"Most dads would agree with me, Liv," he deflected easily.

"Whatever," she grumbled, rankling under authority like the newly minted teenager she was.

"Hey, Dad? Remind everyone what you do for work?" Yang asked.

"I teach unarmed combat at Signal Academy," Taiyang responded, grinning as Olivia went white as a sheet.

"I...umm…"

"Ancient Animan proverb, young lady: Be careful of the toes you step on today, for they may be connected to the ass you have to kiss tomorrow," Yang intoned gravely, despite the mischievous grin she wore.

"That's not _exactly _how it goes, Yang," her father corrected her. "But, accurate."

"Sorry, sir," Olivia said quietly.

"Let's just chalk it up to youthful enthusiasm and call it a day, shall we?"

"Yes, sir."

"Besides, he only has the authority to PT you until you puke, right, Dad?" Yang added helpfully before she gasped excitedly. "You can be Vomit _Girl_!"

"Only if I look at your face," Olivia fired back, her mouth set in a gagging grimace before Yang shoved her playfully aside.

"Hey, Dad?" Ruby piped up. "Speaking of old proverbs, does Uncle Qrow have something against them?"

"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Uncle Qrow and Jaune _kinda_ had a fight over one," she clarified, still unsure of exactly what was going on between the two men.

"That sounds weird. Any idea what it was?"

"Yeah, umm, 'A fight worth having…"

"...is a fight worth winning'," Tai completed for her. A soft puff of breath escaped his nostrils as a melancholic smile bloomed to life on his lips. "There's one I haven't heard in years."

"What's it mean, Dad?"

"Well, that was something your mother drilled into our heads from day one at Beacon. Never start a fight that you aren't willing to and capable of finishing. She was _from_ Mistral, born and raised, despite her heritage."

"You never told me about that, Dad," Yang chimed in.

"Never came up," he said with a shrug. "And I would have thought your uncle would have had a better handle on his temper with a student."

"I...probably didn't help matters," Yang replied with a guilty grimace.

Tai regarded his elder daughter with a flat gaze for a moment. "Why am I not surprised?"

"He started it," Yang mumbled, her gaze cutting away from her father's.

"We've been over this, Yang," he replied in exasperation.

"Liv?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah?"

"Don't they restrict freshmen to campus for the first weekend anymore?"

"Oh, yeah. I got special permission for the memorial service."

"What memorial service?" Ruby asked matter-of-factly, getting a dose of dead silence for her troubles.

"You have _got_ to be joking!" Weiss interjected. "The annual Beacon Memorial ceremony? They sent out a scrollmail on that a month ago!"

"Ehh, I auto-delete any school crap during the summer," Yang scoffed.

"Of _course _you do," Weiss shot back darkly. "What's your excuse?" she demanded of her partner.

"I never got it?" she said with a shrug before she blinked, rounding on her sister. "You told me that was no big deal, Yang!"

"Oopsie?" she offered with an innocent shrug.

"I can't _believe_ you," Weiss fumed.

"So why didn't _you_ say anything?" Yang countered, desperately trying to shift the heat off of herself.

"I didn't think I was going to be here in time, so it slipped my mind," Weiss replied matter-of-factly.

"Same," Blake echoed with a shrug when Yang turned to her.

"Now, girls, let's be civil about this, all right?" Tai asked, trying to keep the peace. "No permanent damage, right?"

"Yeah, not like anyone destroyed a nightclub or anything," Ruby uttered _sotto voce_.

"One! Time!" Yang barked back at her.

"You let Jaune walk into his own _funeral_, Yang!"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did. In that case, I wish I _had _been there; shoulda been good for a couple laughs."

"I can't believe you," Ruby grumbled.

"Guys?" Blake interjected, her voice small and hesitant. "Can we _not _fight about this? This was supposed to be a fun evening, right?"

"All right, all right," Yang relented. "I'm sorry I deleted the scrollmail."

"Fine. I'm just glad you and Jaune at least apologized to each other. I already have to sort out Uncle Qrow's problem with him."

"Yup. We're totally fine on that front," Yang concurred with a nervous smile, earning her a flat look from her sister.

"When I talked to Jaune in the kitchen, and apologized to him about last year, he didn't have a clue what I was talking about, Yang," Weiss retorted pointedly.

"_Mostly_ fine?" she tried to bargain, wilting under her younger sister's glower. "Okay! I'll talk to him when school starts up. What!? He already said he's not coming back to Patch with us!"

"You welch on this and I'm hiding your conditioner, Yang," Ruby said through a glare.

Yang returned the glare with a cross look of her own, her stubborn streak rearing its beautifully feisty head.

"Yang?" Blake said calmly, gently placing a hand on her partner's shoulder. She wheeled on Blake, her irritated grimace melting when she saw the look of genuine concern on Blake'sface. "Come with me, okay?" she asked, shifting her gaze to Ruby for a moment. "We'll catch up,"

"Okay," Ruby said, clearly not happy about how things were going, but willing to give Blake a chance at dealing with her stubborn sister.

"Flight leaves in half an hour, right? We'll be on it, I promise."

"You'd better," Ruby said, fixing her sister in place with an adorably steely gaze.

"Come on," Blake said softly, gently nudging her towards a nearby bench. They both took a seat, Yang folding her arms as she watched the four others walk on.

"Yang, I…" she began.

"What!?" Yang snapped, Blake flinching back at the venom in her partner's voice as well as the red tinge in her eyes.

"What happened with Jaune?" she asked as calmly as she could manage.

"Remember last year? When I told you about my mother?"

"I remember you said it was something you'd had to learn to let go of, yes," Blake answered, breathing a sigh of relief when Yang's eyes shifted back to lilac again. "You said you didn't want to see me make the same mistake you did, right?"

"Yeah," she admitted quietly. "It's just...he had no _business _talking about her like that!"

"Probably not. Did he know about it, though? You said you don't talk about her that much."

"I..._no_," she admitted reluctantly.

Blake sighed, collecting her thoughts before she spoke again. "I want you to listen to me, just like you made me listen to you." She relaxed slightly when she saw Yang's shoulders slump in defeat. She'd known going in that attacking Yang head on wasn't going to work against her bullheadedness, and it wasn't Blake's strong suit to begin with.

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said that Jaune was a big part of the reason I reconciled with my parents. But even then, it was one of the hardest things I've done in my life. I had to go back to them and admit that I was _wrong_, and apologize for it. I'd spent the last six years telling myself that they were wrong, they were giving up on the cause of Faunus rights, that they were _cowards_," she said, the last word nearly choking her on the way out. "I was so stupid, and so, _so_ wrong. I let myself get caught up in Adam Taurus' ideology because I thought he was going to make a difference in the world. In the end, I didn't want any part of the things he had planned, of what he'd _become_, and so I walked away from the White Fang. No, I _ran_ away," she hastily corrected.

"Sorry for sounding selfish here, but what does this have to do with _me_?"

"I think I knew, deep down, that I was wrong. Almost from the beginning, really, but I couldn't admit it. I was so invested in proving my parents wrong that I missed out on having them in my life for _five years_. At the end of the day, once I finally mustered the courage to face them and apologize, you know what happened? They welcomed me with open arms, loving me just the same as if I'd never left." Blake let her words sink in for a moment before driving the lesson home. "You really think Jaune is going to think less of you if you apologize for whatever it was that you did? Nobody's perfect, you know."

"Yeah," she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

"You don't always have to be the tough one, Yang. _Or_ the center of attention. I promise I won't think any less of you for being flawed," she added, placing her hand over Yang's and squeezing gently. Yang looked down at the contact, then up into her partner's golden eyes, her lips soon mirroring the soft smile Blake held for her.

"Yeah, I guess. Besides, I've got too much of a rack to be little miss perfect," she joked, her smile growing a bit as Blake chuckled softly.

"Thank God for that," Blake said, patting Yang's hand before letting go. "I don't think the _world_ could handle another Weiss."

"Thanks, Blake. Really," Yang said after a moment, getting to her feet again and offering a hand up to her partner and friend, pulling her up and into a hug when she took it. Blake stiffened for a moment, but melted into the embrace and returned it. "I really missed you, kitty cat."

"I missed you too, Yang," Blake echoed, her voice going rough with emotion for a moment. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's get going," Yang said, releasing Blake.

"You think the Sands is still open? I kind of want another smoothie."

"Mmmmaybe?" Yang answered hopefully as they began to walk down the sidewalk again. "You really need to try the triple chocolate decadence!"

"Sounds like a plan," she said though a smile.

* * *

Arthur Watts was a patient man, not one given to outward displays of annoyance. But _this…_

This was _vexing_.

Getting into the tent had been relatively easy with the assets he had at his disposal, and now it was just a waiting game. He'd long since given up on keeping his socks clear of mud, let alone actually _dry_, the trudge through the surrounding swamps from where he'd landed the airship being unavoidable. His own preferences laid within technology for his communication needs, yet here he was, personal contact an unfortunate necessity for his current and future plans. A subtle gesture of his right hand conjured a tiny hardlight display in front of his eyes for the few moments he needed to ensure his safety net was still in place, a slight smile shifting his moustache the only outward sign of his confidence in himself and his technology.

The latest images he'd obtained of the White Fang encampment nearly a hundred miles south of the walls of Vale itself were easily matched with with realtime surveillance from an aerial drone, and thus he was here, waiting on his appointment for the evening. A redundant check of his person reassured Arthur that his ornate Dust revolver still rested on his hip under the long, tailed coat he wore even in the sweltering heat of the swamp. Hopefully Adam Taurus could be reasoned with without stooping to the barbaric measures his erstwhile compatriot had resorted to, but Arthur Watts was nothing if not _thorough_.

A soft chime sounded from his scroll, resting on the small map table in the center of the largest tent in the camp. Checking the display, Watts smirked a bit, glad to finally get the ball rolling, a simple gesture dimming the display and returning his position to near total darkness. The sounds of the night increased in volume as Adam pushed the tent flap open and stepped inside, the song of a multitude of crickets abating again as he let it fall closed behind him. The single hanging lamp bathed most of the corners of the tent in shadows, and thus he could observe the lean bull Faunus for a moment, seeing the set of his shoulders as he took a step further toward the table before stopping, tension tightening his frame as his right hand drifted towards the hilt of the sword on his left hip.

"Good to see you're not one to walk into an ambush, Mr. Taurus," he said, leaning forward in his chair enough for the lamp to bathe his face in a sinister light.

"Who are you? And who the _hell_ let you in here? Answer, human, and I _might_ let you keep breathing for another five minutes."

"No need to be melodramatic, Adam. In order, my name is Arthur Watts, and try not to hold your guards _too_ accountable. They did their jobs adequately, but were unprepared for someone like me. Oh, don't worry, the shock dust rounds were designed to only stun the target."

"The better to grind Faunus under humanity's boot heel," he growled. "I know the type, Atlesian scum."

"Now, now, no need for name calling here. In spite of the nation of my birth, I'm actually quite sympathetic to your cause. As a matter of fact, I'm here to help."

"The White Fang doesn't need your help, and neither do I."

"Perhaps not, but what's the harm in listening?"

"The word of a human is worth _less _than nothing here."

"Yes, I would imagine so. Being cowed into doing someone else's bidding with threats of violence? Must have been _quite_ humiliating," Watts said, setting the hook. Even with the small burst of adrenaline he felt, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Adam flinch, the thumb of his left hand advancing Wilt from the scabbard an inch with pressure on the tsuba.

"You're one of _her_ little friends?" he snarled.

"Hardly. And in any case, Cinder Fall is quite definitely dead. I saw the coroner's report myself. Death by catastrophic exsanguination," he added with a sadistic smile.

"Much like yours is about to be. Get to the point."

"I'm here with a gift. Friends give each other gifts from time to time do they not?"

"There's nothing you could possibly have that I want," Adam spat back.

"Oh, I disagree. I heard about the failed attempt to break into the Central Bank of Vale two weeks ago. Quite a pity that your plans fell through. Seven captured and four dead; such a waste of Faunus in the prime of their youths."

"_Five_ of our brothers died in that operation," Adam corrected angrily.

"You mean you haven't heard? I'd have thought Cormac Browne would have contacted you by now," Watts remarked innocently, his moustache shifting slightly as he saw his target freeze momentarily. "Rest assured, he's quite comfortable. The Valerian Carabinieri are taking excellent care of him during his debriefing in witness protection. They even retrieved his family to ensure their safety. Quite considerate, wouldn't you say?"

Adam Taurus stood stock still, processing the implications for several moments before he spoke. "Go on," he said, voice ice cold as his hand retreated from his weapon.

Arthur Watts slipped a hand into the breast of his coat, pulling a small thumb drive out of an interior pocket and presenting it with a flourish. "Address of the safe house, floor plan, guard schedule, and location and specifications of every security camera in the house and in a three block radius. Should be sufficient for an organization of your means to do what you deem necessary," he finished, his oily baritone voice slipping into truly sinister tones.

"What's the price? Nothing in this world is free."

"A tiny favor, really. I need a question answered."

"And what if I just kill you where you sit and take the information from you instead?" Adam asked, his lips curling into a sneer. Watts' eyes narrowed at the threat, but he didn't budge from his seat.

"First, it's encrypted. Second, I thought we could try being friends first. Having friends is a nice thing, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, a hand sliding back into his coat to retrieve a box the size of a small book. "Would you like to meet one of mine?" Arthur asked rhetorically, already opening the lid and dumping out a small object onto the table. The chirp of a single, loud cricket sounded in the tent's confines, and the object hopped a short distance into the air before landing on tiny mechanical legs. Beneath the mask, Adam's eyes narrowed, making out an intricately crafted mechanical grasshopper a little larger than his middle finger.

"So you're a toymaker," Adam scoffed.

"After a fashion," Watts conceded. "More of a curiosity really. Technology imitating life is hardly new. Mine, however, do have a little more bite than the damnable mosquitoes around here," he added, a short wave of his right hand activating the simulacrum. It chirped a second time, an amber glow emanating from the bug for a moment before he snapped his fingers and it detonated in a spray of sparks, blasting a fist-sized hole in the table.

"Such loyal little things, my creations. They'd be utterly inconsolable were I to come to harm. Might even commit suicide en masse if the sensors monitoring my heartbeat were to report my untimely death." A half-clenched fist heralded a series of small impacts on the tent, not unlike a fallen acorn, but repeated hundreds of times. Adam's stance wavered, unsure as to what was happening, but he wasn't about to let a _human_ see him sweat. A second subtle wave of Watt's hand changed that, a single chirp soon echoed by a myriad of synthetic insects in close proximity. Hundreds of amber lights flared to life soon after, visible through the thin tent fabric. "But then again, I'm among friends, am I not? What harm could possibly befall me here?"

"We were led into near ruin by Cinder Fall, and you _dare _come here with the same threats?" he growled.

"Quite the opposite. If you don't wish to work with me, then don't. I'm simply here to put an offer on the table. If you're not interested, I walk away, and we both agree this conversation never took place. You can keep this as a gift, no strings attached," he added, lifting the thumb drive like the proverbial carrot it was. "Oh, and it also contains a list of every confirmed and suspected member of the White Fang known to Valerian law enforcement, as well as what information was shared with them from the militaries and intelligence agencies of Atlas, Mistral and Vacuo. That should prove useful when selecting operatives, should it not?"

"How did you get this?"

"I'm a man of many talents, I assure you. Suffice to say, the Carabinieri don't know I have it, so mum's the word."

Adam Taurus took a long moment to contemplate his options, knowing full well that killing the impudent human would likely result in his own demise, and possibly some of his brothers and sisters as well. His thought process was interrupted when a slim figure burst through the tent door, a slim bladed weapon drawn as she stopped short at seeing Watts sitting in the shadows.

"Adam!" she said sharply, eyeing the smoldering hole in the map table. "What's going on?"

"I'm seeing if we have a new ally, Sister Ilia," he said as evenly as possible. One didn't harbor aspirations to becoming High Leader of the White Fang by demonstrating weakness under pressure, after all.

"Oh, that _is_ good news," Watts said with a smile, another gesture extinguishing the legion of tiny lights surrounding them, a rustling sound heard as they took wing. "I'd hate to think we were getting off on the wrong foot."

Ilia Amitola's eyes darted back and forth under her horned Grimm mask, assessing both men, and suspicious in the extreme. "I thought we were _done_ with…"

"Enough," Adam commanded, the young woman's hatred of humanity well-founded, but easily provoked. "What's the question, Watts?"

"I would like to know if you have anyone acting as double agents to feed disinformation to the authorities in Vale. Specifically any of the people on this list," he said, producing a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. It took every bit of self-control Adam had to take the paper from him without his hand trembling in rage.

"No. None of them." he finally said, his crumpling of the list in a fist the only outward sign of anger he permitted himself for the moment.

"Such a shame, having people you trust stray from the path. If you'll allow me the opportunity to demonstrate my usefulness, I'll take care of that security problem for you. You have a far more pressing matter, I believe?" he asked, lifting the thumb drive and proffering it to Adam, who plucked it from his fingers and slid it into a pocket on his coat.

"Yes. Yes we do."

"Adam?" Ilia asked, her body still whipcord taut.

"We'll discuss the details after Mister Watts has been escorted out of camp and we talk about the guard rotations, Ilia." he said gruffly.

"You might want to consider relocation as well, Mister Taurus. It took me a little over a day to find you, and I don't have the full resources of the Valerian government," he stated, the implications clear. "If you find my assistance useful, and wish to continue as friends, contact me at the burner comm address listed on the drive in two weeks' time. I do hope you will," he added with a smile.

"We shall see, human," he fired back, his mind already pondering the man's potential usefulness.

"Indeed we shall. Until next time, then," Watts said, standing and making his way to the front of the tent. "Oh, and I shouldn't need to remind you to not treat those seven names any differently for the time being. You don't want them warned, or to find potential allies to help them escape justice, after all."

"No, we don't. Ilia, see to it our new friend makes it out of camp, and that he _stays_ out," Adam growled, the barest trembling of rage visible in his lean frame.

"As you command," she replied curtly. "This way, human," she said, opening the tent flap.

Their journey through camp raised quite a few eyebrows, with Ilia's paradoxically imposing presence the only thing keeping the whispered questions and baleful looks from the camp followers turning into an outright brawl. The small encampment soon gave way to the twilight of the forest, filled this time only with the natural sounds of the night. Ilia remained silent, warily eyeing her charge for several minutes before she stopped.

"That's far enough. Be on your way before I change my mind."

"Miss Amitola, isn't it?" he asked, recalling some of the other bits of information he'd gleaned from his plundering of Valerian networks. "If you don't mind me saying, your hospitality needs some work."

"If you betray us? While they might one day find your body, they'll never be able to identify you from what's left."

"Surely you missed your calling, young lady. I hear the Waldorf Hotel in Vale is looking for a new concierge."

"You truly don't fear death, do you?" she spat back, the barest hint of gallows humor in her voice.

"Such anger you have. Quite understandable, in your case. Rest assured, I'll help you find a better target for it."

"You know _nothing_ of me."

"Ilia Amitola, chameleon Faunus, age twenty-two, Atlesian citizen by birth. Parents killed in an SDC mining accident. Expelled from Charter Combat School shortly thereafter for assaulting several students. You were taken in by the White Fang afterwards, and trained in infiltration and espionage. You've been slowly working your way up the ranks ever since." Watts stopped, allowing Ilia's shock to subside before he continued. "You've got a seething anger, both for yourself and others, but you demonstrate admirable control over it when you choose to. However, you've yet to truly find the justice you seek. I'm offering to help you. _All_ of you, if you'll let me."

"What do _you_ get out of it?" Ilia spat sullenly.

"Your goals align with mine for the time being. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not here to join up, if that's what you're wondering. I help you, you help me, and we don't get in each other's way. I don't see a downside for either myself or the White Fang. I can only hope you begin to see things the same way. In any case, my ride's here," he added, a snap of his finger starting up the aircraft that had lay hidden in the shadow of a large cypress. "I look forward to our next meeting, truly," he offered with a curt bow. "The password for the thumb drive is 'peek-a-boo', by the way."

"What?"

"Would _you_ have guessed it?" Watts added with a smugly mischievous smile.

Ilia watched him saunter back to his vehicle, a low thrum heard as the advanced power plant took him airborne, a scowl on her face. "This isn't going to end well," she muttered to herself.

* * *

Pyrrha Nikos gasped, bolting upright in her bed, emerald eyes wide in panic. Her breathing was ragged as she felt a bead of sweat slowly creep down her temple, sliding down her cheek to eventually be wicked into the shoulder of her silken pajamas. Her first instinct was to look to her left, finding her partner fast asleep under just a sheet, a warm summer breeze blowing in through the window he'd left open. Jaune had been insistent on that, still acclimating back to civilization from...wherever it was he'd been. The fact that he had been adamant on sticking to his word in that regard was frustrating to Pyrrha, but she wasn't about to have an argument about it. Jaune was back in her life, and she was damn well going to be grateful for that fact.

Gratitude didn't stop her from worrying.

He'd progressed far in his first year at Beacon, a good portion of that due to her own influence and training, but he was still far from where he should have been as a now second year student. She'd made a promise to Saphron to bring him back, and she fully intended to keep to her word now and forever, even if she had to put a leash on him to do it. Her face softened slightly into a genuine smile, not the plastic facade she usually displayed in public, and she slid out from under her covers to walk over to Jaune's bedside.

Pyrrha thought he looked so peaceful lying there, chest slowly rising and falling, his mop of golden hair partially obscuring his face. Her smile broadening slightly, she reached down to brush a few strands away from his face, only to have a surprisingly strong hand clamp down on her wrist before she could do so. The steely look in his eyes was intense for the brief moment it took him to recognize his partner, and he immediately released the pressure on her wrist.

"Hey. Sorry about that. Getting woken in the middle of the night by an angry Sensei keeps you on your toes. Or so I've been told," he amended with a dubious grin. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh! Bad dream. Sorry that I woke you, Jaune," she added, unsure of just how she'd lost her poise. "It's just…"

"Don't sweat it, Pyrrha," he said, sitting up in bed. "C'mere," he added, patting an open spot next to him. She hesitated a moment before taking a seat, the barest hint of a flinch in her frame felt as he covered her hand with his. "You wanna talk about it?"

"It's...silly, Jaune."

"Not if you're awake at," he said, opening his scroll, "three in the morning."

"I...I had a bad dream."

"You said that already," Jaune replied with a smirk.

"I know. It's just...I thought I lost you again. Like the last time."

"Well, I'm here now, okay?"

"You don't understand, Jaune," she replied, tearing up again. "We...we gave up on you, and I feel so guilty about it."

"You stopped looking?"

"Yes. We'd looked in all the villages surrounding Shion, without a trace, and we decided to start checking the ruined towns that Ren knew about, and Sage too, once SSSN got there. There were a lot of dead ends, and Sage kept telling me we were avoiding one town in particular, so we put it to a vote. In the end, out of options, we ended up in Kuroyuri. There was a Grimm," she began, hesitantly now. "Bigger and tougher than anything we've ever faced, Jaune. We almost lost Ren, and then almost lost Sun when he stepped in to protect him. We killed it, but Sun was in really bad shape by the end. Ren and Nora too. Neptune had to make the decision to pull out, and I went along with it. I didn't want to lose anyone else, Jaune."

"I see," Jaune said simply, letting go of a deep breath. "I forgive you."

"Just like that? What if I don't forgive myself?"

"As a very good friend of mine would say, _nope_."

"But…"

"I order you to forgive yourself. Team leader's prerogative," he amended, cupping her cheek gently to wipe away a tear. "Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, gamely offering Jaune a smile.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Maybe not. I'm still sorry."

"Apology accepted, Pyrrha. I promise."

"Thank you, Jaune," she said softly, nuzzling into his hand for a moment before her eyes went wide at what she was doing and she flinched back.

"You okay?" he asked, the genuine concern in his voice nearly shattering her facade.

"It's nothing," she downplayed.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she said with a wider, reassuring smile now. "I just hope I can get back to sleep without...you know."

"Oh? I've got just the thing for that. Works with my sisters, might as well give it a try with you."

"I don't think a glass of warm milk or a bedtime storyeep!" she squeaked in surprise as Jaune leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her and falling back into bed. Pyrrha was thankful of the minimal lighting in their bedroom, though she would bet he could still feel her blush against his chest, the two being separated by only a sheet and his t-shirt.

"Mom said there was something about the sound of a beating heart that brings someone back to their childhood. Safe and secure in their mother's arms. I mean, not that I'm your mom or anything," he quickly added. "But maybe it'll help?"

"Perhaps it will," she said, hoping that her voice didn't betray the whirlwind of emotions running through her heart and mind. It didn't help that she'd ended up with an arm draped over his chest, her hand hooked almost possessively around his ribcage. She also registered that his own arms were still wrapped protectively around her, the fingers of his right hand gently stroking her back. After a moment, she finally relaxed, letting her head rest against the center of his chest, and she heard it. A soft, but distinct, rhythm; his big, generous heart drumming away softly beneath bone and muscle. Her lips curled into a smile before she burrowed a bit further into his embrace, taking hold of the moment lest it slip from her grasp.

"Better?" he asked softly, getting a contented hum in reply. "Good," he added, giving her a soft squeeze for good measure. "If I get too handsy, don't hesitate to wake me up, okay?"

"I'm pretty sure that won't be a problem, Jaune," she replied through a yawn.

"Okay. G'night Pyrrha," he added warmly, leaning down to plant a kiss on top of her head, much like he would his sister Ivy. He was taken aback at the near-purr that came from her chest, her fierce hug driving the breath from him momentarily. "Don't worry about me going anywhere, okay? I'm right here."

Pyrrha simply drifted off to sleep, a huge smile on her face.


	17. New Beginnings

Chapter 17

New Beginnings

Pyrrha's fingernails clawed at the bedsheets as she stifled a yawn, her bleary eyes trying to look through her loose crimson mane and assess the room. She'd had the most wondrous dream, and a warm smile bloomed to life on her face as she recalled sharing a warm, cozy bed with her partner, Jaune. Lifting her head, she turned to her right, where his bed would have been, but only found an open window with the barest sliver of the sun peeking over the horizon. She started, whipping her head in the opposite direction and finding her own bed, the covers rumpled from obvious use before she…

_Before he pulled me into bed with him_, she thought silently. Pyrrha sat bolt upright in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. Her dream was reality, and she couldn't believe it even with the evidence before her. She wanted to giggle like the little girl she'd ceased to be far earlier than most. She wanted to shout her joy to the heavens. She wanted to have it happen again, and _again_ if she could manage it. She wanted...she wanted...

To know where he'd gotten off to.

Pyrrha frowned, not pleased with this turn of events. The door to the bathroom they were to share for the year with Ren and Nora was ajar, with no light inside, and no sound either. Jaune's scroll wasn't on the nightstand either, and judging from the position of the sun, the dining hall likely wouldn't be open for another hour at least, being a Sunday. She quickly rose from her, well _Jaune's_, bed, taking the few steps across the room to her own bed, plucking her scroll from the nightstand charging cradle and opening it. A quick series of swipes and taps later, she had her locator app running, getting an approximate bearing on her partner. There had been enough new construction on campus that she wasn't exactly sure, but she had a good idea what he was up to.

Pyrrha quickly shut the bathroom door and locked both doors into their room, shucking her pajamas and quickly throwing on the first real clothes she could find in her closet. Gym shorts and a t-shirt would have to do, with a pair of plain panties and sports bra underneath. She tugged on a pair of socks and her running shoes, an elastic hair tie wrangling her flowing mane before she pocketed her scroll and dashed out of the dorm room. She passed a couple students out for early morning jogs, smartly avoiding the midday heat, but paid them no heed aside from a friendly wave for those whom she recognized.

The Combat Arts building had suffered severe damage during the Battle of Beacon, being located adjacent to the Dust magazine, and she was looking forward to returning to the place she felt most comfortable in all of Beacon Academy. She didn't have to hide her feelings or worry about crafting her every word for public consumption. She could let her skill, not to mention Miló and Akoúo, do the talking for her. The only places that would be available this early in the morning were the smaller rooms for self-directed training and free sparring, as well as the locker rooms and gym, and so she headed to the western end of the building.

The still quiet of the empty hallways was broken by the distant sound of whistling wind, and she couldn't help but smile at Jaune's work ethic. She'd never been able to rouse him before seven a.m. before, and now he'd found a reason to follow her far more brutal schedule. This 'Sensei' fellow had done something she'd never managed to, and it irked her just a little. At last finding her quarry, she leaned her lithe frame against the door jamb, watching him work through several sword forms and katas.

Armor and shield moved fluidly as he went, Crocea Corax whistling as it split the air with each stroke. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Jaune closely, her training and experience already prompting her to assess him as a potential threat on the battlefield. His technique was...rough...if she was being generous, but far from the complete disaster he'd been when she took him under her wing. The precision wasn't on her level, certainly, but there was little wasted movement now, raw power on display with Jaune's strength bolstered through either training or judicious use of Aura. Several swings and thrusts came in rapid succession, and Pyrrha's head cocked to the side in response.

_I didn't teach him that_, she thought silently, her eyes narrowing. Surely she wasn't jealous, was she? He'd promised to show her a few new things, right? Combination moves had their place, building muscle memory and allowing a fighter to keep up a punishing pace of attack, but could become a crutch if relied upon too heavily. In her own competitive career, Pyrrha had taken down more than a few opponents whose fighting vocabulary she'd been able to correctly predict. In her mind's eye, she could already see how to best attack into Jaune's new stance, and how to exploit the openings he was leaving her.

With a mischievous smirk, she brought her Aura up, darting forward to challenge Jaune, and herself as well, being unarmed. Unhampered by the weight of her armor and weapons, Pyrrha's movement was preternaturally graceful and quick. Thankfully for her, it also allowed her the speed needed to duck below the horizontal swing that came in at eye level the moment she stepped into range. Reflexes took over, and she quickly pinpointed joints and angles, her arm hooking in behind Jaune's left elbow before she leveraged her hip into his, flipping him over and sending him crashing into the floor, his shield and sword clattering away.

For a split second, she almost laughed at the image of a turtle flipped on its back, her foot planted on his chestplate. This quickly vanished as two gauntleted hands clamped down onto her ankle, Jaune's abs flexing to allow his legs to wrap around her thigh and drive her to the floor as well, the back of her head slamming into the mat. Her training again kicked into gear, the two of them grappling for advantage for several seconds before training and experience won out over strength and mass, and Jaune tapped out rather than suffer further strain on his elbow. Pyrrha chuckled as she released the armbar, disentangling herself from the pile and shuffling over to sit against the nearby wall.

"Impressive reflexes, Jaune. You really had me on my heels for a second there," Pyrrha stated, her smile proud.

"_A_ second?" he asked, an eyebrow arched in suspicion as he slid next to her.

"All right, a couple," she conceded, a soft blush blooming in her cheeks even as she smiled at his confidence. "We still need to work on your weapon retention."

"Yeah. Thankfully that won't involve a cane this time around. My left pinky is still tingling from last week."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he dismissed. "What got you out of bed this early?"

"Well, I'm normally up pretty early anyway, and I'm still kind of on Argus time. You could have woken me if you wanted to spar. I wouldn't have minded."

"I thought about it."

"And?"

"I couldn't bring myself to do it. You looked so peaceful and happy. Did you sleep well at least?"

"Very," she answered with a warm smile. "Thank you, Jaune."

"Don't mention it. Seriously, _don't_. Saph and Terra already think we're dating, Yang's little games aside."

"So...you and Weiss?"

"Just friends. I would've thought _you_ of all people would believe me."

"I'm sorry. It's just...you seemed so intent on making it reality last year."

"I moved on." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm just me. Not like I'm a catch or anything, least of all for her."

"Don't sell yourself short, Jaune. You're a wonderful, kind-hearted soul, and the best friend I've ever had."

"Well, I try to be anyway," he said softly.

"Jaune? I don't think I ever asked you…"

"Asked me what?"

"Why..._her_?" she choked out.

"Weiss?"

"Yes."

"I mean, honestly? It's not like I know that many girls to begin with. You're all stunningly beautiful, before you get that into your head," he interjected, the experience of complimenting the wrong sister having burned him several times in the past. "Nora's out, obviously. Yang would just laugh at me, and/or try to kill me for asking her sister out. Blake? Honestly, she's kind of a dead fish if you ask me, and not very talkative on top of that. And Pyrrha, frankly, you intimidate the hell out of me, you know? Even though I know what an absolute sweetheart you are, I know that any fight we had would end up with me in the hospital _when, _not _if_, I screwed up," he trailed off into a shudder. "Plus you had that whole thing with your sponsor going on," he added almost absently, missing the widening of Pyrrha's eyes.

"I..._what_?"

"You told that one guy that your makeup sponsor didn't want you to 'lose your allure' by getting involved with someone, right? When he asked you out after the Vytal Ball last year?"

"That may have been an...exaggeration," she confessed with a sheepish grin.

"Why?"

"I didn't want to go out with him, but I couldn't just say no without being impolite."

"That's...weird."

"Public image and all that," she remarked sadly. "Old habits."

"Oh."

"So you asked Weiss out because it was your only option?"

"Well, not exactly. We'd finished up training on the rooftop one Friday night, and I stayed behind for a bit to catch my breath while you headed downstairs. Anyways, it was quiet, and I guess Ruby, Blake and Yang had headed into Vale or something, and Weiss was left alone. I was looking up at the moon, catching my breath, when I heard her singing. Must've left a window open. It was... beautiful, and _sad_ at the same time. I could tell she was hurting; couldn't tell you why." He shrugged. "But it all just kinda fell into place. Pretty, smart, talented, great friends and teammates, and yet she wasn't _happy_. I figured if I could at least make her smile, maybe even get a laugh out of her, I'd be good with that. I couldn't be the greatest Huntsman of my generation, I couldn't be the team leader you all deserved, I know," he held up a hand before Pyrrha could correct him, "I'm past that. But anyway, I figured at the very least I could be the goofy friend who made everyone feel better about themselves. And maybe, just maybe, I could make her happy too. Maybe more," he concluded with a wan smile. "Well, in hindsight, I was pretty stupid about it, but that's not exactly news, is it?"

"Jaune, please don't talk about yourself like that."

"Well, I mean, it's not wrong. And like I said." He paused, glancing to Pyrrha a moment with a smile that she mirrored. "Was."

"You learned from it," she clarified, getting a short nod from him in response. "Good."

"Pyrrha?"

"Yes?"

"There was something I wanted to ask you about yesterday, before everyone else showed up and you got introduced to the circus."

"What is it, Jaune?"

"Well, I spent a good chunk of the summer watching all the training videos you sent me, before my Scroll died anyway. Thanks for that, by the way."

"I'm glad you got something out of them."

"Yeah. For starters, I'm not you; never will be. I can't _be_ you, but I can still learn from you. And other people too. You've been such a help to me, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"I'll always be there for you, Jaune," she reassured him with a warm smile.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about, actually," he said quickly, Pyrrha's expression softening in confusion. "The one video where there was a little extra at the end. That wasn't about techniques or stances at least."

"I...yes, I remember," she said, her heart hammering anxiously in her chest.

"You wanted to tell me something. _Tried_ to tell me something. I must've watched those twenty seconds hundreds of times. I almost think I understand, but I have to ask you. Don't wanna misunderstand anything, you know?" he clarified, Pyrrha nodding in assent. "Pyrrha? Do you...have feelings for me?" he asked, his voice small and anxious. Pyrrha couldn't believe her ears, and her eyes were wide with wonder. She didn't even hear her own gasp for a moment, the corner of her mouth twitching nervously. "I...sorry," he said softly, looking away. "I shouldn't have assumed, I just…" he trailed off, Pyrrha's nervousness quickly rising to full-blown panic.

"No!" she shouted in alarm, her hand clamping down on his.

"Geez, I _said_ I'm sorry, Pyrrha," he replied, sounding hurt.

"What? Oh, you...Yes!" she finally blurted. "The answer's yes."

"I...wow," he whispered. "_Why_?"

"I...I didn't want…" she stammered, before steadying herself and taking a deep breath. "I didn't want to hear you say no."

"That's...not what I meant. Why _me_?"

She blinked at the unexpected nature of the question before she settled herself to answer. "Jaune, do you remember the day we met?"

"Honestly, I try not to. Keeps the cringe factor down," he said with a grimace.

Pyrrha chuckled softly. "You didn't have a clue who I was, Jaune."

"Not helping me feel any better about that day, Pyr," Jaune muttered.

"It was refreshing. You came up and talked to me like I was just another girl. I wasn't the Champion of Mistral, the Invincible Girl, _none_ of that. I was just Pyrrha. That was the reason I came to Beacon, Jaune. To get away from all of those things."

"So me being a clueless idiot is what got you to notice me, huh? That's...not exactly a high bar to set for yourself, Pyrrha."

"That's not quite what I meant."

"I mean, it's kind of pathetic, really, when you think about it," Jaune rambled on.

"I'm not sure if I should feel insulted by that, or poke you for insulting your_self_."

"Sorry."

"Aaaanyway," she said through a smirk, trying to keep them both on topic. "You treated me like an actual person. After so long in the competitive circuit, I'd almost forgotten what it was like. Your recruitment skills could use work, though," she added with a slight smirk.

"I'll keep that in mind if I ever have to fire you," he retorted, looking her in the eyes and giving Pyrrha a soft smile in return.

"You want an answer, don't you?"

"Shutting up."

"Yes, it was a 'low bar', but once we were partnered, I saw more and more of the real you. Your generosity, your determination, how much love you poured out on all of us. You're such a wonderful young man, Jaune. I don't think I could have stopped myself from feeling this way about you if I tried."

"But why didn't you tell me? And why did you keep trying to help me with Weiss? It seems so...counterintuitive."

"I thought it was what would make you happy. I cared enough about you to not stand in the way of what you wanted. No matter how much it hurt inside," she whispered.

"I...I'm sorry, Pyrrha. I didn't even realize." He looked at the floor and gave a heavy sigh. "I really screwed things up, didn't I?"

"No more than I did, I'm afraid," Pyrrha conceded. "I've spent a lifetime preparing for my career as a Huntress. No wasted time for anything but spear and shield, rifle and sword. Outside of training, I've never failed when it mattered. Failing with you? The thing that mattered most to me? I was terrified that you'd say no. I didn't want to force this on you. I pushed too hard trying to get you to accept help once, and it almost cost me our friendship. Nora was right."

"About?"

"Taking my own advice. I should have paid more attention to her."

"In fairness, that's always a good idea. Think of the poor area rugs," he said in a melancholy tone, conjuring memories of all the occasions they'd had to replace theirs due to various mishaps, syrup-related or otherwise.

Pyrrha couldn't help but chuckle through a smile at that, turning to him and placing her hand on top of his again. "See? You always find a way to make me laugh, Jaune. I missed having this in my life. I missed you."

"You really meant it, didn't you? About the dance?"

"Every word."

"I can't believe you were scared of me."

"I didn't want to lose you as a friend. I didn't want to hurt the team, either."

"And so you suffered in silence. Because I was too _stupid_ to…"

"Jaune," she interjected gently. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"What if I don't forgive myself?"

"Then I make sure you do. I will always be your friend, never forget that. Even if that's all I am, I'll still be happy to be a part of your life."

"There you go again, Pyrrha. You're too nice, I swear. Stop putting others first all the time. I promise, it's okay to be a little greedy sometimes." He paused for a moment, hoping not to screw things up again when he spoke. "What do you want out of this?"

Pyrrha blinked, taken aback by the frank nature of the question. "I...don't know. _More_. More than what we already have. Last night, I slept better than I have in _years_, Jaune. Because of you."

"I just did that to help you, I wasn't… Oh, God, I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean to lead you on like that."

"Lead me on?" she asked, her smile faltering.

"I didn't want to give you the wrong impression. Or take advantage of you."

"You didn't do either of those things, Jaune. Please, let's just call it a happy little accident, all right?"

"I...okay. I just don't want to hurt you. I'm honestly terrible at this kind of thing, if you hadn't noticed."

"I wasn't going to mention it."

"This isn't something I'd even considered, Pyrrha. I just...I can't shake the feeling that you're settling. I need to feel like I'm bringing more to the table, you know?"

"I...see," Pyrrha whispered, trying her damnedest not to cry.

"Heyyyy, hey hey hey," Jaune said warmly, gently squeezing her hand. "I'm not saying no, okay? Just not right now. I need to make sure I'm good enough to handle training _and_ a relationship, okay?"

"I...I suppose."

"I don't want to feel like I'm doing anything for you out of obligation, and I don't think you want that either. I don't want to drag you down with me, Pyrrha. You already take so much time out of your own training to help me. I _like_ spending time with you. You're my best friend, and my partner. Best one I could have hoped for. Gimme some time to figure out whether I want us to be more. That sound good?"

Pyrrha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying her nerves, tempering her anxiety with more than a little hope. He hadn't outright said _no_, had he? "That's fair, Jaune. Just promise me that you'll tell me as soon as you decide, no matter what. I don't want this hanging over our heads any more."

"No matter what, Pyr," he said, taking both of her hands in his, squeezing affectionately. "Lemme drop my gear and we can head back to the dorm. I promised you guys a Team JNPR day in Vale, and I'm not gonna go back on that. Meet you outside?"

"Sure!" she replied with a smile, watching him rise and head for the locker room. She _definitely_ wasn't checking out his butt in those new, deliciously form-fitting trousers. Nope. Nuh-uh. "Shut up, Nora," she whispered softly through her smile.

* * *

"Hnngh," Yang grunted softly, forcing an eye open ever so slightly and immediately regretting it. She slammed her eye shut again, flinching away from the perfectly situated sunbeam peeking under the edge of the blinds and hitting her full in the face. Taking a deep breath, she elected to try again, hoping she was clear of the worst of it now.

Her eyes fluttered open, letting her fully take in the living room of the cabin where they'd started, and apparently finished, their slumber party. Weiss was curled up in her father's recliner, tilted fully back, her pale nightgown visible from the waist up, the rest of her hidden under a lap quilt that had been Taiyang's baby blanket several centuries ago. Ruby was uncovered, her pajama pants and tank top tighter than usual on her, especially in her undignified position. Her head was mashed into a throw pillow on the end of the love seat, and she was on her knees with her butt in the air, one arm clutching the pillow whilst the other dangled over the front of the cushions, an abandoned spoon jammed in a tub of cookie dough barely out of reach on the floor. _Damn it, Ruby, I'm gonna have to do double duty keeping the creeps away from you now. Who said you could start filling out?_ Yang mused silently.

Sighing softly, Yang moved to absently scratch at her belly, feeling a bit of a sweaty itch, but came up short, her fingers curling through a nest of ebon hair instead. _That_ got her attention fully, and she looked down to find Blake lying on top of her, a soft, contented hum coming from her throat as she snuggled more into her partner, Yang's fingers gently massaging the back of her neck. Blake was resting her head on top of Yang's ample pillows, which got a silent chuckle from the saucy girl. A soft puff of air escaped her nose, catching just enough of the guard hairs in Blake's cat ear to garner an irritated flick of her Faunus trait. Smirking mischievously, she pursed her lips, blowing softly to get another reflexive twitch of the admittedly adorable little triangle.

"Mmmmommmm, stoooop. Fie mor' minuh," Blake mumbled, barely coherent and clutching at her ersatz teddy bear more tightly.

"Usually I'd need to buy you dinner and work my magic _before_ you call me mommy," Yang said smoothly, getting a gasp from her partner. Blake spun her head around, inadvertently rubbing her face against Yang's t-shirt-clad breasts for a moment before she fixed her with a flat stare, her cat ears pinned back against her head.

"I hate you," she said, her brow furrowed deeply in irritation.

"That's not what you were saying last night, kitty cat," she teased back.

Blake pushed off of her literal body pillow from the night before, rolling gracefully to her feet before adjusting her yukata and giving off a low grumble.

"Ooh, is that a purr, Blake?"

"It's too early for this," she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Too early for what?" Ruby asked with a yawn, stretching her frame to ease the kinks her unorthodox sleeping posture had caused.

"Your sister's being a pest."

"It's never too early for that, Blake," Yang replied cheerfully, scooting her butt back and sitting against the arm of the couch.

"We _know_, Yang," Ruby deadpanned.

"Whuh?" Weiss asked before stretching, yawning and looking at the smiling Yang and her other two, less amused teammates. "Is Yang being a pest again?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Ruby utterly failed to suppress a snicker at the way Yang's jaw dropped before she blurted out a simple "Hey!" in protest.

"It's almost like you can read minds, Weiss," Blake snarked, her golden eyes searching the room for her latest book.

"I'm good at reading the room."

"Well, now that little miss _buzzkill_ is up too, what are we gonna do for the day?" Yang groused, dropping her bare feet to the floor and hunching forward a bit, rolling her shoulders to relax her frame.

"Breakfast first, obviously," Weiss observed matter-of-factly.

"I'm good!" Ruby piped up, jealously guarding her tub of cookie dough, spoon in hand.

"_No_, you're _not_. We start school again tomorrow. You need something more nutritious, Ruby," her partner reprimanded her firmly.

"Aww, come on, Weiss! Live a little!" Ruby whined.

"Ehh, she's right, Rubes. Pretty sure we've got enough cereal for everyone at least, even if Blake _was_ trying to hog all the milk," she added, complete with waggling eyebrows.

"Ruby, I pity you growing up with this. Truly," Blake said coolly.

"Tell me about it," Ruby replied, crossing her arms in consternation.

"Hey, I was the best sister you ever had, and don't you forget it."

"You were the only sister I ever had."

"Who let you stay up late and watch scary movies with me?"

"You say that like it's a good thing," Weiss chimed in.

"Cookies for breakfast?"

"Not helping your case," Blake added.

Ruby sighed and smiled at that. "Good times," she said quietly.

"See?" Yang countered.

"Whatever," Weiss scoffed.

"Oh, like you're a better big sister than me."

"I'm a fine example of poise, grace and discipline for my younger brother to follow. Even if he seems to be following in the footsteps of someone else." she muttered darkly.

"Doesn't make you better."

"That's a matter of opinion," she retorted.

"All right, show of hands, who's actually hungry?" Blake asked, lifting her right to shoulder level, getting an enthusiastic Ruby followed slowly by their two teammates, both glowering softly at the other. "Ruby? Didn't you mention some place in town that made your favorite Atlesian waffles with strawberries and chocolate chips?"

"Oh my gosh, YES! Saleen's! Yang?"

"Sounds like a plan. We need to get tickets to Vale anyway."

"I can get Aaron to give us a ride into town; save us having to carry all our luggage along," Weiss said, searching her makeshift bed for her scroll.

"He's still here?" Ruby asked, still mystified by the notion of 'personal staff'.

"He's a local sales rep for the company, actually."

"Oh. Makes sense, I guess. Hey, Yang, how do you wanna travel to Vale? I don't think the air taxi has direct service to Beacon."

"Ehh, I'd still like to pick up a couple things in the city before we hit the dorms. And I already have the storage unit lined up for Bumblebee. Plus I think Blake wants to take the ferry anyway," she said with a knowing smirk.

"I...do?" Blake asked hesitantly, already afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, you sure do love _motorboating_," she completed the thought. Blake quickly became a blur of motion and forcefully planted a throw pillow directly into Yang's grinning face, launching her back onto the couch.

Ruby's delighted gasp could be heard halfway across the island.

"PILLLOOOOOWWW FIIIGHT!" she shrieked before getting plowed in the face harder than her sister had been, knocking her backwards over the loveseat to land in a heap on the floor.

"No," Weiss pronounced flatly, an icy blue stare daring Yang and Blake to gainsay her edict, the fluffy instrument of Ruby's defeat still clutched in her delicate fingers.

"Owwww," Ruby squeaked from the floor.

* * *

"I still don't understand how my letters never got out, Pyrrha," Jaune said placatingly as their dorm room door closed behind them.

"It's all right, Jaune. You're here now, and I'm happy that you are."

"Okay. I'm just happy to be getting back to a light school schedule."

"Light?" Pyrrha asked, her brow arched.

"Yeah. I crawled out of bed at five fifteen. Sensei considered that 'sleeping in'."

"I'm actually impressed you're keeping to that schedule. Maybe you can join me in my morning workouts?" she asked sweetly.

"So long as you don't beat me if I miss one every now and then," he replied off-handedly, closing their bedroom door once they were both inside.

"I've got ways of keeping you in line that _don't_ involve physical violence, Jaune," she chided him gently.

"Fair enough. I'm gonna hop in the shower, if you wanna change while I'm in there," he said, casually stripping off the sweat-soaked t-shirt he'd worn back from training, leaving him in his gym shorts and running shoes. Pyrrha's gasp behind him alerted him that he'd done something wrong, but her shout of alarm was what froze him in place.

"Jaune!"

"What!?" he asked from a slight crouch, his body already in a combat stance and his Aura flaring to life as his gaze quickly darted around their room for signs of danger.

"Oh my...your _back_," she said, her voice reduced to a horrified whisper. Pyrrha reached out, her fingers tracing hesitantly over the myriad scars criss crossing his skin, her breath trembling in her chest. "What _happened_ to you?" she asked with trepidation in her voice.

Before Jaune could answer her, their bedroom door burst open, a panting Nora tumbling to the floor before popping to her feet, yanking a pair of shorts up to cover her pink panties, a short-cropped t-shirt half-covering a matching bra. "What's going...on…" she began to ask before she fully comprehended Jaune's state of undress. "Ohhhhhh, ho ho ho," She began, her shocked face turning to an ecstatically salacious leer. "Oh, _Reee_ennn!" she sang back over her shoulder. "This. _Is_. _HAPPENING_!" she shouted with glee.

"What?" Pyrrha asked in confusion before she understood her teammate's misconception. "No, it's not…"

"What?" Ren asked as he nearly stumbled into the room, his pajama pants mostly on and his tunic hanging loosely from his shoulders. "Oh," he said calmly, the brief raise of his eyebrows betraying his surprise. "Nora, I think Jaune and Pyrrha might enjoy their privacy, for the same reason we were just enjoying _ours_," he said evenly, adjusting his clothing to straighten his appearance.

"No, it's not that, Ren," Pyrrha countered. "Look at this!" she hissed, spinning Jaune around to show their teammates the topographical map of pain on Jaune's skin.

"Oh my gosh! What happened to you?" Nora asked, her hand over her mouth.

"What? Those?" he asked, taken aback that his friends were making such a big deal over nothing. "Training scars. That's all."

"Jaune, this is bad," Pyrrha replied, her voice still a horrified whisper. "A teacher should _never_ do this to a student. I never would," she added, whether her philosophy or her love for her friend mattered more, she couldn't say.

"Pain is just weakness leaving the body. Besides, it was worth it."

"I don't see how."

"Well, umm, lemme see. Ah! Nora!" he said firmly, turning to face his friend.

"Yes, oh Fearless Leader?"

"I want you to punch me."

"Beg pardon?"

"Right here," he said, framing the center of his now highly visible abs with his hands. "Hard as you can. Nora?" he prodded her, breaking her out of her blinking stare.

"What? Oh, right. Are you sure? I did put on some muscle this summer," she added, flexing her arms to prove her point.

"Yup," he said simply, almost dismissively.

"I really don't think this is a good idea, Jaune," Pyrrha unsuccessfully attempted to dissuade her reckless teammates.

"I don't want to break you, Jaune," Nora clarified.

"You won't."

"Uhhhhh-huh," she replied skeptically. "Welp, it's your funeral. I'll do it on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You survive, you tell my boyfriend here the secret to your core workout."

"Huh?" Pyrrha asked before she took another look at her partner, her eyes going wide at the muscle definition he'd gained in four short months, her immediate concern having prevented her from noticing before. Despite the fact that she knew him to be a boy made of flesh and blood, very _warm_ and _snuggle-worthy_ flesh at that, her immediate impression was that of a chiseled marble statue.

"Because holy _crap_, your abs put Ren's shredded wheat to _shame_!"

"Deal," he replied with a shrug.

"Don't say I didn't warn you…" she said, planting her feet and winding up.

"I was about to tell you the same thing, Nora," Jaune replied, drawing a stunned flinch from Ren of all people.

"Shyeah," she scoffed. Without another word, she balled her hand into a fist, letting loose with as much power as her deceptively strong frame could muster. The sound of the impact was not unlike that of a side of beef being dropped from several hundred feet onto concrete; sharp, vaguely wet, and unmistakably brutal. The brief flash of brilliant white light was akin to a lightning bolt accompanying the thunder, while the sheer physics of the blow launched him backwards, where he hit the wall before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha cried fearfully.

"Sorry?" Nora said softly.

"What for?" Jaune asked, getting everyone else's undivided attention. He eased himself into a sitting position, looking up into three stunned expressions. "I _told_ you to put some mustard on it. You weren't holding back on me, were you?"

"I...no," she said, blinking once before she realized exactly what had happened, a goofy grin quickly blooming on her face. "Not bad, Fearless Leader." Almost as quickly as it had arisen, her smile evaporated, and her eyes flicked toward her still-clenched fist, before she grabbed her right wrist with her other hand. "Son. of. a. _BITCH_, that hurt!" she cried out, her hand uncurling and twitching fitfully.

"Sorry. Here, lemme see," he beckoned, holding both of his hands out to her. Taking her painfully throbbing hand in his, Jaune allowed his Aura to extend over hers, turning her deep pink pale and bright as his Semblance went to work for several long moments. He released her hand and Nora brought it close for scrutiny, flexing the digits to restore feeling before she violently cracked her knuckles and smiled again. "Better?" Jaune asked, getting a nod and a mischievous smile from Nora.

"I feel like I could run a marathon!" she said, before casting a sly grin towards Ren, whose placid smile flickered out when he saw the look she was giving him. "_Again_," she added cryptically, and his face grew pale.

"I...don't think we have time for that, Nora. Jaune promised us a team breakfast, after all."

"Mmmm, I think I'm more _thirsty_ than hungry, you handsome stud, you," she said in husky tones, curling her fingers in the edges of Ren's tunic, pulling him close.

"Jaune? _Help_?" Ren said in quite possibly the smallest voice Jaune had ever heard him use.

"I think the vending machines down the hall are stocked," Jaune said with a shrug. "You should be able to grab her something to drink and be back before I'm done in the shower and ready to go. Say, thirty minutes?"

"Sounds like a plan! Ren! Attend your queen!" Nora pronounced, releasing him before turning on her heel and marching out of the room.

"A hand, guys?" he asked, getting helped up by both Pyrrha and Ren taking a hand each. "You've got this," he said to Ren, whose eyes went wide for a moment before a subtle, mischievous grin materialized on his lips. Without a word, he gave Jaune a small, polite bow before walking out of the room after Nora.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked when they were alone. "I think you might not understand what just happened."

"What? That they're banging?"

"That's not _quite_ how I'd put it," she said with an awkward grimace.

"Margie and Vi have had boyfriends before. I'm not an _idiot_. Besides, joke's on Nora. I boosted _him_ more than I did _her_."

Jaune could practically feel the heat from Pyrrha's blush from two feet away as the implications fully dawned on her. "That's an..._unconventional_ use of your Semblance, Jaune."

"They'll thank me later. Plus maybe it'll take the edge off Nora for once," he added, getting a soft, contented hum in agreement. "It's good to see your smile again, Pyr," he added, causing her cheeks to redden further. Jaune glanced down to save her further embarrassment, noticing that he was still holding her right hand in his. Or maybe she was holding his, it didn't quite matter; the blemish on the inside of her wrist was what caught his attention. "What's this?" he asked, raising her hand up.

"Just something I got over the summer," she replied, avoiding his gaze. "I...I didn't want to ever forget you, Jaune. What you mean to me," she said softly. Jaune's breath hitched for a moment, seeing the small tattoo there, no bigger than a Lien coin, the twin _arcs-en-ciel_ and her own spear and hoplon superimposed and blended seamlessly into one united emblem for the both of them. Jaune bit his lips before he said something impulsive and likely stupid, instead tracing over her skin gently with a fingertip.

"Pyrrha?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, Jaune?"

"I've got a beautiful idea," he said, a warm grin splitting his face.

* * *

"Top you off, hon?" Florence Peony asked, the glass carafe of coffee held at the ready in her liver-spotted hand. The well-past-middle-aged waitress wore an old-fashioned style of uniform, complete with a pink gingham skirt and blouse, and a half-apron in crisp white linen with a pocket for her order pad. Her hair was teased and blown out, the brittle texture of the pale blond strands as well as the darker, exposed roots betraying the bleach job for what it was.

"Yes, please," the lone customer in the booth replied, pushing his half-full mug slightly towards her. She deftly poured the steaming black elixir, managing to stop a quarter inch from the top of the mug in spite of the seemingly reckless manner in which she did so. "Thank you, Flo."

"Any time, Jake. I'll be in the back for a minute. Gimme a holler if ya need anything." She turned on her heel, comfortable tennis shoes squeaking on the vinyl tile as she departed, checking in with the other two customers seated at tables to offer the same notice. The three gentlemen at the counter, longshoremen by their manner of dress, were handled by her partner and not her responsibility for the moment. The man took a sip of his black coffee, unadulterated by cream, milk, sugar or any other less-than-manly contaminant, setting it down and resuming his daily ritual; reading the news from his Scroll. Narrow glasses were perched on a thin nose, crow's feet at the corner of his brown eyes showing his age even before one could note the streaks of grey in his jet black hair. The face was narrow, which fit his generally lean frame and tall stature. A simple red polo shirt over tan slacks gave one the impression of a quiet, middle-aged father, or grandfather, figure, enjoying a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. The only truly distinguishing feature he possessed was the sleeve of scar tissue covering his left forearm.

"As I live and breathe, Jacob Frost. Such a pleasure to meet you at last," he heard; smooth, rich tones befitting a salesman.

"Do I know you?" he asked testily, glancing at the trio of longshoremen for a moment. One of them nodded in return, turning his stool slightly to keep an eye on the booth without being obvious about it.

"Not yet," Arthur Watts conceded, sliding into the bench across from Frost. "And not nearly as well as I know you."

"I have a fan? I'm touched," he retorted, his tone conveying he was anything but.

"Let's just say we have common interests. _Junketsu wa hagane yori mo tsuyoi_," he spoke quietly in reverent tones.

Frost's eyes narrowed slightly behind his glasses, betraying nothing. "I'm afraid I don't speak...Mistrali, is it?" he said after a brief pause.

"Of course you don't. Plausible deniability is your stock in trade, Doctor Frost. One doesn't run for a Valerian Council seat with skeletons in the closet. Pity it didn't work out for you," he needled the man, trying to find a chink in the mental armor. Watts already found him far more challenging, and thus entertaining, than Cinder Fall had ever been in that regard.

"The people spoke, and Augustus Wolfe, the first Faunus Councillor in Valerian history, sits on the council," he said darkly, just the slightest hint of mocking sarcasm creeping into his voice.

"Such a shame. A man of your vision denied the ability to see it made reality."

"You're talking in circles, stranger. Make your point."

"I don't have much of one to be honest. I simply wanted to meet you before I lost the opportunity. I'm something of an admirer, if I'm being blunt. Strength of will is nothing without conviction, _Daikunshu_."

"There you go again with the foreign talk. Please, I'm just a humble doctor, trying to enjoy his breakfast."

"Oh, we both know you're anything but humble, Jacob Frost. You don't rise to Grand Monarch of the Sanguine Brotherhood by being a simpleton, after all."

"Choose your next words _very_ carefully," Frost replied, his voice cold enough to draw the notice of his friend at the counter, who turned to face the two men directly.

"As I stated, we have common interests, and thus, common _enemies_. I know you wouldn't believe me if I said I wasn't a policeman, but I'll put it out there regardless. This Kingdom is rotting from within, and laying the blame upon the wrong people, such as yourself."

"I'm an innocent man, Mister…"

"Watts. Arthur Watts. And by every legal definition, you are correct. Innocent until proven guilty and all that. I fear that may not last much longer, however. The State's Attorney's office is set to empanel a Grand Jury next week, with you as the chief target. Would have been last week, but the roster of potential jurors was accidentally erased by, well, let's just say a computer glitch and leave it at that," he added with a knowing smile.

"They've got nothing on me," Frost scoffed. "Because there's nothing _to_ have."

"Oh, I would rethink that sentiment if I were you. I've read the police report. There are four witnesses placing you at the scene of Emmett Hill's...unfortunate tumble down those stairs. I haven't decrypted the interview recordings yet, I'm afraid, and the report is heavily redacted, but all four point to you as the instigator. That's all the Valerian government needs to put a patriot like yourself behind bars for...well, a _very_ long time, at least."

"Go on," Jacob replied icily.

"The Vale Police Department and the Carabinieri are both rife with people sympathetic to the mongrels. Why, some of them are even working in conjunction with the White Fang," he added with an air of scandalous wonder.

"You have proof of this?"

"Oh, they'll pass it off as having informants, but the evidence is there. Why do you think that even with seven 'confidential sources' the Breach of Vale was nearly successful? Hundreds injured, thirty-seven dead, and only thwarted by student Huntresses operating outside of their mandate of a training mission, and, more importantly, outside of the control of the police. You can't have an organization like the White Fang pull off an operation of that magnitude without the vast majority of their members aware of it. Whether the police have sympathizers in the ranks, or are blindly accepting whatever their contacts are supplying them, it's a problem nonetheless. They don't understand the animals. Not like you and I do, Jacob." Watts briefly cut his gaze down to Frost's scarred limb. "The rebellion took its toll on you far more than most, I know."

"Damned savages couldn't even find the right man," Frost muttered under his breath.

"They've never taken to proper education like a human would. Wallowing in their ignorance like it's some semblance of civilized culture," Watts added almost dismissively.

"You've read _Watashi no Tairitsu_," Frost replied, citing the core book of the Brotherhood.

"Some of Asahi's older, more nuanced works, actually. _Tairitsu_ is better suited as a primer for the masses who can't see what's self-evident to gentlemen such as ourselves. The Kingdoms' control over the media keeps the populace docile, yes, but tragically uninformed of the true issues that face them. And of the people brave enough to work at fixing them," he added, his silver tongue working overtime on his latest target.

"And you're here to do what, precisely? You talk a good game, Watts. What's your angle here?"

"If Vale continues to decline, all of Remnant follows suit. In spite of its flaws, Vale still holds great influence outside its borders. The Huntsmen of Beacon Academy are Vale's greatest export, and business has been booming for decades. Besides, they've got their own little corner of the world where they won't have to suffer under _oppression_." Arthur rolled his eyes at the last word.

"It _would_ be a better world, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed. The problem is the amount of sympathy the common man holds for the Faunus. They haven't been told the truth for so long that they are like sheep, begging for the shepherd. How many people truly know what the figures are for interspecies offspring? The average of the three most conclusive studies is eighty-two point seven percent, in favor of the Faunus parent," Watts clarified, pausing as he saw Frost blanch at the number. "Not even you knew that? Makes sense they would suppress knowledge that didn't fit the party line."

"You know that Wolfe is set to put forth a bill to repeal the miscegenation laws? Not like the damned police have enforced them since the rebellion," he growled.

"Quite the worrisome state of affairs, I agree. And that's where I come in. I have information, and access to certain things, but I don't have the manpower to exploit that knowledge to best effect."

"And that is?"

"The wholesale expulsion of the Faunus from Vale. The reclamation of humanity's primacy in the world. I believe you would be interested in that, would you not?"

"And how would one accomplish this, I wonder? Your plan involves someone else taking the risks while you sit in the shadows, does it not?"

"I am in the most tenuous position of all, I promise you. But if you desire reassurance, I shall give it to you." He produced a thumb drive from his pocket, sliding it to the middle of the table. "There's the report, complete with the digital watermarks verifying it's authenticity. I've also taken the liberty of including some other information which might be of use to you. The organizational structure that the Valerian authorities believe the Brotherhood operates under, complete with names, suspected front businesses as well. This establishment is notably absent. Excellent work."

"Heh, Mel's a good man. Lost a brother during the rebellion."

"There is also every piece of information I could gather regarding the so-called informants. Addresses, Scroll links, the works," he said, trailing off as Frost touched the drive to his scroll and began to flick through the file menu. "The report's in the root directory," he said smoothly, correctly discerning Jacob's primary focus.

Frost tapped one last time, taking a sip of his coffee as he began to read. Watt's moustache shifted the barest fraction of an inch when he saw the color drain from Frost's already pale complexion. "_How_?" he demanded of no one in particular.

"I don't know yet, but I've got two dedicated servers brute forcing the encryption as we speak. As soon as I find anything out, you'll be the first to know."

"I certainly do appreciate that, Mister Watts. It's just _so_ serendipitous that you've graced me with your presence at this precise moment in time, wouldn't you say?" Frost asked, his eyes lifting slightly to gaze over the top rim of his glasses. "All that would be required of me is just one overt act to confirm any of the allegations listed, as well as loop me in on a conspiracy charge on top of it all. Please tell me Vale P.D. doesn't think I'm _that_ stupid." Frost spat venomously, and Watts could swear he felt the room chill around him.

"As I stated before, I'm not a policeman. There are far better pursuits for a mind such as mine," Watts replied, keeping a level voice in spite of the tension in the room.

"Kudos for keeping your bearing at that, Watts. Most cops would have shit enough bricks to build a house. _Most_." Frost's eyes narrowed, his breathing slow as he gazed into Watts' eyes for several moments of silence. "Well, it seems we're at an impasse. Why don't you have breakfast with me? I'm sure Mel can whip up something to put some meat on your bones."

"Oh, I'm quite alright, thank you," Watts replied smoothly.

"Oh, but I _insist_," Frost countered, an almost predatory sneer on his face as he snapped his fingers once. Two of the longshoremen from the counter quickly and quietly took seats on either side of Watts, sandwiching the slender scientist between a pair of men that easily weighed a collective five hundred fifty pounds. "Might I recommend the corned beef hash? It's quite hearty," he added, his voice returning to its normally warm timbre.

"Far be it from me to refuse such a gracious offer," Watts stated flatly, adjusting his body posture slightly to gain a modicum of comfort.

"Tiny," Frost said, his voice dropping into a truly cold, commanding register. The third of the longshoremen, a truly massive slab of a man in a flannel shirt and jeans, approached the booth, dark eyes like a shark looking Arthur over once before focusing on his superior. "Give this to Carmine, have him check it for authenticity and any irregularities. Oh, and have Mel whip up an order of hash for our friend Arthur Watts here. Coffee?" he asked, getting a raised eyebrow in response. "Coffee, black," Frost continued, missing the barest furrowing of Watts' brow. He handed the thumb drive over to Tiny, who walked across the dining room to hand it to the disheveled young man in the grey hoodie seated in the corner of the restaurant, talking to him briefly before he disappeared into the kitchen. Carmine began by inserting the thumb drive into his laptop, his fingers soon a blur of motion as he carried out his task.

"And so, we wait," Frost stated, resuming his breakfast without deigning to acknowledge the borderline hostage across the table from him.

* * *

"This was a _terrible_ idea," Jaune grumbled. "Ow!" he barked softly as the buzzing resumed, the tightly packed cluster of needles mangling his skin and forcing the bronze ink into his flesh.

"_Please_ hold still, dude," the well-inked and heavily-pierced Cammie Kirsch said for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Sorry," he said through gritted teeth. "You'd think my mom being Doctor Vampire would prepare me for needles."

Pyrrha giggled at the joke, patting his shoulder in support as the tattoo artist resumed her work. "We all suffer for our art, Jaune."

"Yeah, me and my big ideas."

"I think it's pretty sweet, kid. This ain't the first time I've inked matching tats for a boyfriend/girlfriend team," she said, leaning in to peer at her canvas closely.

"We...we're not…" Pyrrha stammered.

"Pyrrha's just my partner, Cammie," Jaune assured her, placing his free hand over Pyrrha's and squeezing gently. "The best partner I could have asked for."

"Huh. Coulda fooled me," Cammie muttered, getting back to work. Pyrrha's hand holding his own served to placate him for the last few minutes needed, his breathing even as pain and endorphins fought to control the expression on his face. "Aaand, done," Cammie pronounced with a satisfied smile. Jaune raised his wrist, bringing his brand new tattoo up for inspection.

"My mom's gonna kill me," he muttered, still dumbfounded that he'd actually done it. His and Pyrrha's

"Normally, I'd give you aftercare instructions, but being a Huntsman? Let your aura work at it naturally, don't force it, and you'll be fine in a couple hours. If you need me to touch it up, come back tomorrow."

"Sure," Jaune said absently. "So whaddya think, Pyr?" he asked, standing and showing off his new ink to his partner.

"I'm flattered, Jaune, really," she said with a genuine smile. "I told you you didn't have to do this."

"I know, I know. Just...seemed like the right thing to do, ya know?"

"I suppose."

"Now how about brunch? Nora's probably gnawing on the lobby furniture by now."

"That sounds lovely!" Pyrrha replied with a beaming smile. Despite the potential for chaos looming over the rest of her day, she had truly missed this.

* * *

**AN: Two updates in one month? Who'da thunk it? **

**Frost has a RL, rather than ****literary, allusion going on, ten internet points for the first person to guess it.**

**Also, much thanks to my trio of beta readers this chapter, I was super worried about the first scene not feeling right. Please, look up Shoober, Silvolde and Cyanide Sins, as all three of them are worth a read.**


	18. Out of the Frying Pan

**Chapter 18**

**Out of the Frying Pan**

Jacob Frost regarded Carmine's laptop, folded into a tablet form, the scrawny teenager leaning in to whisper further commentary into the older man's ear from time to time. Watts watched with an air of cool detachment, barely registering when the blonde waitress set a dingy plate down in front of him, the greasy, artery-clogging concoction still sizzling angrily for a moment. A steaming mug of coffee clinked into the plate as she set it down, low-quality flatware wrapped tightly in a paper napkin following immediately after. Arthur hesitated for a moment, before deciding on nonchalance as the better approach, unwrapping his fork and taking a nibble at his hash. It was savory and salty in the extreme, but as promised, quite a hearty and filling dish.

"Just like mother used to make," Watts remarked dryly after finishing a bite.

"Well, I'm just glad I can give you a little taste of home here in Vale. They do say food can heal the body _and_ soul. I'm just ever so glad you've recovered from that unfortunate case of _death _you had a few years back." Frost added with a knowing smirk.

"Well, one does make do when one doesn't wish to be found," Watts replied, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"Or when one wishes to take on the identity of another," Frost countered. "You are _quite _the puzzle, aren't you?"

"I _do_ despise being boring," Watts replied, taking a sip from his mug and doing his best not to gag at the swill that Mel dared to call coffee.

"So tell me again, why should I believe you are who you claim to be? Arthur Watts is officially dead as a doornail, complete with a charred, mangled corpse and autopsy to go with it. Nasty business, that."

"You wish to verify my bonafides," Arthur stated, nodding once as he set his mug on the table. "Very well, ask your questions. I'll answer what I can," he added, steepling his fingers.

"You were a rising star in the inner circles of Atlesian academia, yet ten years ago, you dropped off the map, so to speak. Resigned your position at the University of Atlas under, shall we say, _suspicious_ circumstances, no published papers since. A man of your brilliance not sharing it with the world? Seems rather odd, doesn't it?" Frost asked, peering over the top of his glasses.

"Officially? I was involved with projects involving defense technology. Unofficially? They didn't have the stones to continue my research."

"That's a bold claim."

"No less so than my goals. My advancements in neuromechanical interfaces were groundbreaking, beyond anything anyone else could even _dream_ of building."

"So what happened?"

"Scientific progress is not without risk. There were..._unfortunate _incidents when we went to live trials. It wasn't my fault they only provided the barest of funding when it came to obtaining test subjects," he grumbled. "The only _people_ I could get at that rate were desperate Faunus willing to risk everything for table scraps. I don't know that their neurological structure was _inferior_, per se, but there are clear differences in biology at work there, as you well know," he added, raising an eyebrow. "Suffice to say that Councillor Greenwood heard about the deaths, and she had me shut down. Couldn't threaten her voting base with the mongrels of Mantle, and so I was..._expendable_, my entire career sacrificed on the altar of _equality_," Watts said, his lips curling into a sneer with the last word.

"And so you decided to fake your own death? That seems a bit extreme, even for someone as clearly passionate as you are." Frost cocked his head skeptically, genuinely curious as to the explanation.

"That was just the start. I was brought into military projects not as a reward but as a _leash_. They didn't want me getting back to my work, after all. I might have made someone _look bad_," he added mockingly. "In the end, I chose freedom. Freedom to live a pure, undisturbed life, unfettered by the rules of Kingdoms but loyal to the natural law of Man. Happiness is the exercise of vital powers along lines of excellence in a life affording them scope."

"You know your Plutarkos," Frost commented, increasingly unsurprised as to Watts' erudtion.

"Anyone who wishes to truly harness the power of their mind and spirit should."

"And so now you're wandering Remnant, looking to do favors for whoever strikes your fancy? Seems rather far-fetched, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps," Watts began, pausing for effect. "However, this isn't a simple favor, but rather an alignment of goals. You want something, I want something. I believe we can help each other."

"And if I disagree?" Frost asked, weary of being tied to anyone or thing he wasn't familiar with.

"Then I walk out of this fine establishment and you lose nothing but an opportunity," Arthur reassured him.

Frost paused before he answered, regarding Watts with sharp eyes. "All right. Say I believe you. What is it you want?"

"To send a message. Through my work, and yours, that humanity will not be denied its destiny."

"Specifics, please. My coffee is getting cold and I'm growing tired of this banter."

"Of immediate concern? How dedicated is our friend Wilson Goldhamer?"

Frost paused, surprised both by the mention of man's name, and the shift of topic. "Wil? Met him in Atlas during a medical conference. He'd been run out of the Atlesian Army after having some unpleasant words with his new mongrel platoon sergeant. He'd been a supply clerk also, so he fit perfectly as a warehouse manager for Vale General Hospital. Finding each other was serendipity. Shame about his young daughter," Frost said quietly. "She looked so much like my Jacqueline at her age."

"How interested do you think he would be in delivering justice to the man responsible?"

"Very," Frost said flatly.

"Well then, I think I can give him the opportunity. Tell him to be on the roof of the Wainwright building Wednesday morning by ten a.m. He'll have the means provided and the opportunity will be self-evident once it presents itself."

"The Wainwright building?" Frost asked, more from uncertainty than not knowing its location.

"Yes. It's three blocks from the courthouse, and immediately adjacent his place of employment, offering him an alibi in the highly unlikely event he's questioned."

Jacob pondered that information but a moment before current events meshed neatly with it and he offered Watts the barest hint of a smile. "That sounds difficult, but I'm sure Wil is up for the challenge."

"I know he's capable, just not if he's committed. I've seen his training file."

"He'll be there. I'll guarantee he won't pass up an opportunity to lay Anna completely to rest."

"Good to hear."

"I will admit, I _am_ curious as to your stake in the matter."

"If he truly is guilty of all he's been accused of, then he doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his natural life sitting safe and sound in the Freezer, all at taxpayer expense."

"And if he isn't?"

"Then he's simply a career criminal who doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his natural life sitting safe and sound in the Freezer, all at taxpayer expense. For humanity to proceed into a new, golden age, the undesirable elements need to be carved out, much like you would a tumor. All in all, it's five minutes of work for a brighter future for Vale," Watts concluded with a satisfied smirk.

"All right, I'll tell him. What else?"

"The seven names I've given you. I believe Vale needs to be _purified_, don't you? Cut them off at the knees."

"Why not just go after their contacts in the Vale Police Department?" Frost asked, making sure he understood the motivations and logic of his prospective partner.

"Do you really want that conflict to become personal? I assure you, killing cops only gets the rest of them _exceptionally_ motivated, not to mention the issue of public sentiment. Removing their White Fang handlers and exposing them for what they are removes the channels of communication, and sends a message to the Fang, the police, and Vale itself." Watts paused a moment before continuing.

"The police can't acknowledge their relationship with the mongrels without exposing themselves to scrutiny, either for failing to stop the breach of Vale, or their corruption, and so, will not give the matter any more attention than would normally be warranted. The Fang will think twice about sending operatives into the police department, unable to fully trust their previous contacts. Lastly, Vale will be reassured that the Brotherhood will take action to protect them even when their government will not," Watts concluded. "Trilateral symmetry isn't easy, but it _is_ beautiful when achieved."

"Fair enough I suppose. I'll make arrangements to begin the reconnaissance. We _do _need to verify your information, after all."

"Understandable. Do keep in mind that information does carry an expiration date."

"I know. Perhaps a week to line everything up? Not much more than that," he reassured Watts.

"Good. I've got another few favors to ask, but with attendant benefits to you as well. I can tell you unequivocally that your communications aren't as secure as they should be, but I can rectify that with the right equipment."

"Like what?"

"I need to obtain a microchip printer capable of thirteen nanometer resolution or better, but there isn't one in the entirety of Vale. _Yet_," Watts clarified. "Vale TeleComm has ordered one from Atlas, scheduled to arrive via ship on Thursday. They want to be able to manufacture the newest generation Scrolls locally instead of having to order them from abroad. Unfortunately for them, the container manifest has been slightly altered. It'll take them a day or two to manually verify every container's contents, during which time I believe one of your associates can make something happen," he stated smoothly, cutting his gaze to one of the burly gentlemen keeping him wedged in place. "The details are on the drive as well."

"Oh, and here I thought there wasn't enough we could do for you," Frost remarked dryly.

"Rest assured, I'll have your equipment done before I start with my own. You can even have young mister Harris here supervise. He might even learn something from me."

Jacob cut his gaze to his side, Carmine Harris giving him a noncommittal shrug "Sure, I guess. Dude's encryption protocols are pretty slick," he spoke up, slightly bloodshot eyes from his time spent staring at a screen regarding Arthur with detached curiosity.

"You'll have to forgive the youth of today for their lack of visible enthusiasm, Arthur," Frost interjected with a slightly peeved smirk, getting a roll of the eyes from Carmine. "His father is a good man, and has raised him well, but sometimes…" he trailed off, the implication clear.

"You done with that?" Carmine asked, indicating his laptop.

"Yes, I do believe we've gotten to some common ground. We've both got things to take care of, it seems. How do I…?" Frost began.

"Anonymous comm address on the drive," Watts clarified for him.

"What's your IP masking protocol?" Carmine asked, finally having a subject of interest in the conversation.

"CRO-7, with a few flourishes of my own to make it appear to be something else."

"That's, like, ten years old," the young hacker scoffed.

"And borderline obsolete because of the CPU load, I know, but who would even recognize it these days?" Watts countered. "Besides, it was retired for practicality purposes, not because it was actually _ineffective_."

"Point," Carmine conceded, folding his laptop and slipping it into a canvas backpack. "I've gotta get going, Doc. Dad wants me to clear out the gutters before the first autumn storms hit."

"Very well, young man, give my regards to your father," Frost said, clapping the youth on the shoulder and sending him on his way. Flo waved him down at the cash register, handing over a styrofoam takeout container and kissing him on the cheek before he left through the front door. "He doesn't look the part, I know, but he's got a bright future ahead of him. Makes me wish I had a son like him," Frost said, waxing nostalgic for a moment.

"I'll take your word for it," Watts replied with a hint of skepticism. "While I would love to stay and chat, I _do_ have other matters requiring my attention, including uncovering your mysterious detractors."

"Indeed. Please do tell me once that's done. I'd like to address the matter..._personally_," Jacob Frost finished with all the chill of his namesake.

"I believe you would after all, _Daikunshu_. Please, do enjoy your meal, and thank you for your time. I look forward to our next meeting."

"If we have one."

"Well, that's up to _you_, isn't it?" Watts replied, rising to his feet. "I look forward to it just the same." He produced a twenty lien card, allowing the plastic to clatter to the table. "For the hospitality and service," he added before Frost could inform him it was on the house. Sliding his wallet back into the inner breast pocket of his coat, Arthur Watts walked out of Mel's with a smug smile on his face.

He'd gotten all he had set out to achieve and then some, finding Frost both a rather charismatic and reasonable man. Just the kind of people he actually enjoyed working with. His connections within Vale were phenomenal, and far more extensive than anyone examining the Sanguine Brotherhood from the outside might have suspected. The occasional wreath burning aside, most people thought them an unfortunate footnote in the history of race relations on Remnant. There hadn't been a confirmed lynching in twenty years. On the surface, things appeared calm and tranquil.

Below it, however, one could note the uptick in what could be termed _unfortunate accidents_ involving the Faunus of Vale. The latest of these had been the tragic hit and run death of Octavius Wolfe, the ensuing sympathy propelling his father into office. The Sanguine Brotherhood was good, Watts could see it. They just needed a little push in the right direction from time to time, perhaps the odd piece of equipment here and there.

"Speaking of which…" Watts muttered softly, pulling his Scroll from his pocket, a short series of taps opening a call. He didn't wait for an answer on the other end before he spoke, knowing full well it wasn't coming anyway. "We're on. Make your delivery as scheduled and proceed as planned," he said tersely before ending the call, his polished wingtips clicking softly against the sidewalk as he cut down an alley, eager to stay out of the public eye as much as feasible.

* * *

The Beacon air docks were a flurry of activity, largely dominated by the incoming freshman class filing off the large, whale-like air barge. Returning students were allowed more leeway in their arrival methods and times, and thus were only peppered amongst the rest of the student body.

"Why are we here this early again?" Yang bemoaned, having been the most visible celebrity on the ship, she'd attracted far more attention from the freshmen.

"Because we want to get settled in and get a good night's sleep before the first day of school tomorrow," Weiss reminded her for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

"Boooorriiiing," Yang countered. "Right, Ruby? Ruby?" she asked, looking around until she found Blake pointing towards the girl in question, dangling off the haft of the biggest axe any of them had ever seen.

"Oh my gosh, what caliber?" she breathlessly asked the wielder, a massive mountain of a teenager wearing blue jeans and a red flannel shirt. In Yang's eyes, the beard was a turnoff, but even she could admit he wore it well, the slight curl in his mullet and sturdy boots, not to mention what had to be a converted felling axe, completed the lumberjack aesthetic perfectly.

"Twenty by one thirty-eight," he said, chuckling softly at Ruby's delighted gasp, her eyes going wide as he slid a carrot-sized cartridge from the short bandolier on his thigh to show her. "Break action, because otherwise it'd be too heavy even for me."

"Yeah, I hear that," she said with a little swagger in her voice. Without warning, she reached behind her and spun Crescent Rose into its scythe form, smiling as she showed off her baby, in spite of the slight bobble she had at the end. "Took my Uncle Qrow _months_ to keep Crescent Rose here from swinging _me_ around." She planted the butt end into the ground, the muzzle directly at eye level for the seven foot tall student.

With a booming laugh, he mirrored the gesture, placing the butt end of his own weapon a short distance from Ruby's and aligning it vertically just as she had done. "Well if you can swing that, more power to you," he stated warmly, placing his forearm level, and across the top of his axe handle between the horns of the double-bitted axe head, showing Crescent Rose to be three inches shorter.

"Yeah, well, size isn't everything," Ruby muttered bitterly, frowning and stowing her weapon.

"No it isn't. Nick Argento," he said with a smile, offering what Ruby swore was an Ursa paw to shake rather than a hand.

"Ruby Rose," she said softly, doing her best to be polite in spite of how intimidating the boy was, which wasn't helped by how her hand was swallowed in his.

"Well, look at you! Making friends and everything!" Yang cheered as she walked up to the pair. "I didn't even have to ditch you this time!"

"Oh sure, bring _that_ up," Ruby grumbled.

"Sisters?" Nick asked hesitantly, guessing based on dynamics rather than genetics, it seemed.

"Yup! Nick, this is my sister Yang," Ruby piped up. "Whether I like it or not," she added darkly.

"Oh, shut up, you know you love me."

"I wonder _why_ sometimes," she added darkly.

"Hey now, how about we get to orientation, Ruby?" Nick asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Whaddya mean, _we_?" Ruby asked, her face wearing a sour expression.

"I mean, I wasn't trying to imply anything. I'm just trying to make friends with my classmates, you know?"

"I'll have you know, I'm a second year student, _and_ a team leader."

"I...umm, sorry? Honestly, I thought you were younger than me."

"She is," Yang helpfully added.

"Seriously?"

"Yup. Ruby's a straight up _prodigy_. She's the b…" Yang began before Ruby tackled her to the ground.

"Don't you dare!" she shouted angrily as the two girls began to tussle.

"Iiiiii'll just get going then. Nice to meet you two," Argento announced, familiar with sibling fights.

"Again?" Weiss grumbled, the lack of decorum on the part of her teammates rankling her yet again.

"You're still surprised by this?" Blake replied dryly.

"I shouldn't be, really. It's just...in front of the freshmen?"

"You think any social stigma is going to stop them?"

Weiss could only offer a frustrated sigh in response. "No. I suppose...what is _that_?" she asked, peering over Blake's shoulder. Blake followed her gaze, finding it centered on a large weapon slung over the back of a lanky girl who was asking for directions.

A hilt nearly two feet long offered the wielder plenty of leverage, the rest of the weapon resembling a large paddle nearly six feet long and ten inches wide. The edges had a series of square notches cut into them, making what would otherwise be an oddly-shaped club into a truly fearsome weapon. The flat of the blade had to have been what caught Weiss' eye, irregularly-carved pockets in the dark ironwood holding raw Dust crystals, the smallest of which was the size of an apple.

"I don't know," Blake answered, only to find that Weiss had already started imperiously heel clicking her way over. "Let's go over and find out," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes before following after Weiss.

"Excuse me?" Weiss asked, getting the girl in question to turn towards her. The girl paused before she shifted her gaze downward, being nearly a foot taller than Weiss. Long, flowing black hair framed what could be seen of her face, a hooded, deep blue cloak trimmed in ivory-colored lace concealing most of it. Skin the color of bronze, yet unmarred by the sun, was visible between her neckline and cheekbones, the rest covered by a loose dress in charcoal grey billowing out from under her cloak, the sleeves clinging to her spindly arms.

"Yes?" the girl replied, her voice thickly accented with the flavor of southern Sanus.

"I was wondering about your weapon, actually."

"What about it?" she asked, her head tilted slightly.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice the Dust crystals you've got installed, I'm quite the Dust connoisseur," she clarified. "I've never seen raw crystals used like that. In fact, there are two of them I didn't even recognize," she added.

"Hello, sorry. I'm Blake Belladonna, and this is my teammate Weiss Schnee," she interjected, surprised that Weiss had forgotten her social graces, getting a chagrined look from the heiress.

"Luz Martinez-Rios," she curtly replied, looking uncomfortable under Weiss' inquisitive gaze, not that Weiss would notice or care. "And those crystals weren't installed, they were grown into the wood. Well, the wood was grown around _them_. My great grandfather did it."

"How?" Weiss demanded impatiently before getting a gentle elbow in the side from Blake. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking," she added with more humility.

"My Tia Lupe said he had some sort of plant growth Semblance. He was quite popular with farmers wherever he went."

"I can imagine," Blake said, her tone appreciative and her eyebrows raised slightly.

"But that doesn't answer my question, Miss Martinez-Rios." Weiss replied, sounding impatient.

"And why _would _I answer your question, _malcriada_?"

"_Because_ I'm..." Weiss huffed before Blake cut her off.

"A fellow student who might need to know if we're ever in a fight together?" she said, hoping Luz would buy the explanation.

"Yes. That," Weiss added, reining in her temper with only slight difficulty.

Luz' posture tensed for a moment as she pondered the logic before slumping slightly as she gave in, reaching over her shoulder to draw the massive macahuitl, resting the flat of the blade across her forearm, presenting it for inspection. "Which ones are you talking about?"

"These two," Weiss said curtly, indicating a turquoise piece carved with geometric patterns twelve inches long and three wide, as well as an irregular lump of what almost looked like gravity Dust, save for the fact that it reflected no light at all.

"This," Luz began, "is naturally-occurring hardlight Dust," she explained of the first, before Weiss cut her off again.

"There's no such thing!"

"Yet there it is," Luz countered. "Do you believe your eyes, or your fancy Atlas schooling, _chiflada_?" she asked, an edge in her voice.

"How...?" Weiss began, unsure if she was still that famous.

"Your accent."

"I don't have...that's not important," Weiss corrected, shaking her head. "I...may I?" she asked, reaching out a hand towards the crystal before stopping.

"No. He's much stronger than he looks; you might _hurt _yourself," she cautioned, getting an angrily furrowed brow in response. "Watch." With a single deep breath, Luz conjured her Aura, a deep blue color flaring to life across her body and weapon both. The crystal took on a soft glow as well, before the telltale flare of a hardlight construct took shape, forming a series of sharp, triangular blades protruding two inches from the recessed cutouts, giving the already-fearsome weapon a truly brutal appearance.

Weiss regarded the display with a mix of skepticism and wonder writ large across her face, gingerly poking at one of the saw teeth with a delicate finger, wincing as her Aura blunted the blow. Luz let her concentration slip, the hardlight fields flickering out almost immediately after.

"That's..._how_?" she finally demanded in bewilderment.

"That used to be part of the scepter of King Carlos the Fifth, the last King of España. He picked it up hunting amongst the ruins."

"The Mines of España are a _myth_. Something every wildcatter in the Solitan Reaches tells tall tales about," Weiss stated in hushed tones.

"They're very real, and _very _dangerous. Only the truly desperate try to find them any more."

Weiss pondered the girl's words for a moment before opening her scroll, holding it above each crystal for a moment before moving to the next. "This can't be right either. The only dead crystal is that black one; everything else shows no signs of degradation."

"That is how my great grandfather shaped it."

"Wait, you can't remove them? What happens if you need to replace one?"

"I don't."

"That's not possible," Weiss asserted, though her voice was filled with doubt.

"And why not?"

"Because a weapon-grade crystal that size doesn't have the kind of mass to retain charge from repeated use."

"And what do you think _she_ is there for?" she asked, pointing a black-lacquered nail at the somehow blacker crystal.

"You still haven't told me what that is," Weiss countered.

"Raise your Aura and touch it."

Weiss raised a skeptical eyebrow before doing so, gingerly touching a fingertip to the matte black crystal. A slight hiss could be heard almost immediately and Weiss flinched back, shaking feeling back into her hand. "It's..._cold_," she said softly, almost at a loss for words.

"She's a little hungry from the demonstration you demanded," Luz replied with the first hint of a smile either Weiss or Blake had seen from her during the entire conversation. "That crystal feeds on Aura, channeling it into raw power that fuels the other crystals. You get used to the chill after a while," she added, her melancholy tone telling them that it was far from an easy process.

"That...that shouldn't exist either. Entropy dust is purely _theoretical_."

"Listen, _pendeja_…" Luz began before turning to Blake instead of laying into the heiress. "Does she have a habit of always being _wrong_, or is she just _stupid_?" Luz asked, getting a smirk from Blake in response.

"Why you…" Weiss began before Blake cut her off again.

"Weiss has some.._.inconvenient_ preconceptions. Please don't hold that against her."

"I'm standing right here, you know," she growled.

"And yet you're not paying attention. You asked what those were, and I answered you. I've got better things to do than stand here and try to convince you that the sky is blue. _Adios_," Luz spat at a shocked Weiss, slinging her weapon over her back again and trudging angrily towards the main auditorium.

"And here I thought _Ruby _was terrible at making new friends," Blake chimed in, quite pleased to be able to needle Weiss.

"Blake, that crystal is one of the greatest scientific finds in the history of Dust science! It could change _everything_ we know about Dust!" Weiss hissed vehemently at her.

"And maybe if you hadn't been so pushy, you _might _have been able to study it yourself," Blake shot back, Weiss shrinking a bit from the rebuke.

"I'll just have to get back in her good graces, that's all," she muttered.

"Good luck with that," Blake deadpanned, looking back over her shoulder to find Coco Adel prying Ruby and Yang apart, scolding them both. She shook her head, smirking softly because she wasn't the one who had to deal with the sisters' antics for once. Turning back to Weiss, she found her on her Scroll, typing away on her messaging app. "Who's that?" she asked, not particularly caring, but curious nonetheless.

"Someone who's got a better appreciation for my talents than the rest of you," Weiss replied bitterly. "And someone I need to meet with to take care of business. I'll catch up with you later," she added, perfectly balancing haste with dignity as she marched quickly off towards the center of campus.

Blake briefly pondered following her, but was brought up short by Coco marching her two teammates over. Yang was being led by her twisted ear, Ruby dangling by her cloak. "Do these belong to you?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Blake asked flatly.

Coco actually had enough good humor left to chuckle at the joke before shaking her head. "No. Keep them out of trouble, please? My team has work to do tomorrow morning, and I don't have time to be dealing with this crap. You're upperclassmen now, _act _like it," she growled as she shoved Ruby and Yang into Blake's arms.

"Rude," Ruby muttered, dusting herself off. Yang simply grumbled at the rough treatment, rubbing at her tender ear.

"Where'd Weiss cream wander off to?" Yang asked.

"She said she had something to take care of, and would catch up later."

"Wasn't she the one wanting us to be here early?"

"Well, we're here, so let's get our things dropped off. I want to swing by the library and pick up a few books anyway," Blake answered, the loss of her precious book collection during the dormitory fire at the end of last year a sting she still felt.

"And maybe we can set up our bunk beds!" Ruby added hopefully.

Blake and Yang both looked at each other, a split second silent conversation passing between them. They both decided that this wasn't a hill worth dying on.

"Sure, Ruby," Yang allowed with a smile. "As soon as I get these tangles out of my hair," she added with a sadistic grin.

"That'll take hours!" Ruby whined.

"And whose fault is that?"

"I regret nothing!"

"Why do I associate with you two again?" Blake asked rhetorically.

"You love us?" Ruby replied cheerily.

"We liven up your life, kitty cat. Admit it."

"I suppose life _would_ be a little more boring without you," Blake allowed, a smile slowly creeping onto her lips.

"Was that so hard to admit?" Yang asked with a big grin, throwing her arm over Blake's shoulders.

"I guess not. Do we know which dorm we're in?" she asked, hoping to get out of the crowd and into the relative quiet that was the Team RWBY dorm room.

"Yeah, lemme see here," Ruby replied, opening her Scroll. "It says Crystal Hall, 205. Aaaand, this way!" she cheerfully pronounced, pointing through the crowd.

"That's Vale," Blake corrected her.

Yang elected to simply lift her sister up and turn her in the opposite direction.

"Stupid screen tilt," Ruby grumbled softly. "_This_ way?" she asked tentatively.

"Close enough, sis," Yang replied with a knowing smile.

* * *

"Aaaand two oh five, here we are!" Yang announced, wheeling around on her other two teammates, Blake with her nose in a book and Ruby dropping her pack onto the floor of the hallway. "Weiss still hasn't caught up?" she asked, her smile faltering just a bit at her teammate's absence ever since the air docks.

"She _said _she had to take care of something; didn't say _what_. Probably just arranging for more luggage to be delivered," Blake answered indifferently, turning a page.

"Well, that means she gets last dibs on the beds then!" Yang replied eagerly, pulling her Scroll out and swiping over the door mechanism, getting a positive chirp, green light and a click before she threw the door open and marched inside. "Oh this is _awesome_! We get two…" she cried jubilantly before going silent.

"We're totally doing bunk beds again this...year...?" Ruby trailed off as her sister reemerged from the dorm room, white as a sheet. "What?"

"Nope. Just...nope," she muttered as she closed the door behind her.

"What's wrong, Yang?" Ruby asked.

"I did _not _just see that." she whispered in horror, opening her Scroll and double checking the BEST app. She looked again at the number plate on the door, then back to her Scroll then the door again. "Okay, what the actual _fuck_!?" she shouted angrily before pounding on the door. "You two get some clothes on and get the fuck out of our dorm room!"

"What's going on?" Blake asked, closing her book to address the issue.

"I...they…" she stammered, looking to her sister and trying to frame the conflict in terms she felt comfortable telling the adorable little cinnamon roll standing before her. "It's…" she began before the door behind her opened half way, revealing Sky Lark, a sheen of sweat on his bare torso, wearing blue jeans with an unfastened belt and nothing else.

"What the _hell_, Xiao Long?"

"What are _you two_ doing in _our_ room? Aside from the obvious?"

"_Your_ room!? This is Team CRDL's dorm," he retorted. "How'd you unlock the door?"

"Scroll lock, duh," Yang replied, waving the device in front of his nose. "Speaking of," she added, tapping at her Scroll to bring up the BEST app again. "See? Student directory, Team RWBY, Crystal Hall, room 205. CRDL is on the third floor, 312."

"Lemme see that," Sky demanded, grabbing the Scroll while still in Yang's hand. "Okay, what the actual fuck?" he muttered.

"That's what _I_ said," Yang growled, cracking her knuckles ominously, Ember Celica a flick of the wrist away from dispensing a beatdown.

"Hey, Russ, grab that printout, and my Scroll, too." A few seconds later, a folded piece of paper and Scroll were tapped on Sky's shoulder. He grabbed them both, shoving the printout in Yang's direction while he opened his Scroll to rebut Yang's claim. Sky swiped the device against the door lock, only to be rebuffed with a politely firm buzz and red light.

"What the? This changed! Look at the paperwork! I printed it out Friday night before I left the house."

Yang peered closely at the paper, her own face now a mask of confusion. Trying to reconcile the conflicting information, she returned to her Scroll. "Says here RWBY was assigned room 205 by Professor Ozpin on Saturday afternoon."

"Damn it!" Sky barked.

"Wait. If you can't open the door, how did you get in?" Ruby asked.

"We got here early Saturday morning; haven't left the room since. Russell was feeling sick after his flight."

"Oh, so _that's_ what you were doing, huh? Taking his _temperature_?" Yang scoffed.

"He's feeling better," he muttered.

"Uh-huh," she replied dubiously.

"What?" her sister asked, now thoroughly confused.

"I'll tell you later, Ruby."

"O...kay."

"Meanwhile, like I said, pack your shit and get out, Sky," Yang reiterated.

"Ugh, _fine_. Give us a little bit. We already unpacked everything," Sky replied, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Trust me, I noticed. Besides, it looked like you were already busy _packing_. Ten minutes."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, closing the door behind him.

"And take the linens with you!" she shouted through the door getting a muffled shout in reply.

"What was _that _all about?" Blake asked, shoving her book into her pack.

Yang's eyes flitted to her sister, who looked just as puzzled as Blake, before she hit upon a course of action, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Remember last year, when that _hilarious _practical joker got ahold of Cardin's Scroll and sent out that _important _Scrollmail that had the educational video attached?"

"The one that every student in Beacon got except me?" Ruby asked.

"_That_ sure was weird, wasn't it?" Yang replied, her gaze drifting away down the hall.

"The one that nobody would show me, and they wouldn't tell me why?" she continued, her voice growing testy.

"Like I said, _weird_."

"The one that every time I asked, they looked at you like you were Death incarnate?" Ruby added, hovering dangerously close to a growl now.

"I get that all the time, Ruby," she scoffed, dismissing the allegation with a wave of her hand.

"Wait," Blake interjected, "_You_ were the Meatspin Menace?" she asked, aghast at the connection she'd formed in her head.

"It's a crap nickname," Yang muttered.

"So then...Sky?" Blake asked in disbelief, her index finger pointing to her right in the young man's general direction.

"Yup."

"And...Russell?" she continued, her finger swinging left.

"Like a windmill in a hurricane," Yang completed the thought, grinning at her unsubtle innuendo.

Blake blinked once. "I did not need that image in my head," she said softly, her eyes wide in horror.

"What?" Ruby asked, now thoroughly confused by her teammates' conversation.

"I'll let your sister explain," she deflected. "She's the one who actually saw it."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"Yang?"

"I'll tell you later, Ruby," she said dismissively. "In like...fifteen years."

"Gah! You're sounding like Dad again!"

"You take that back!" Yang fired back angrily.

"Oh, hey guys!" they heard from behind them. They turned to find a casually-dressed Nora standing in the doorway to JNPR's dorm, located across the hall once again. "Thought I heard something out here."

"Hey, Nora," Yang replied, offering and receiving a fist bump from her favorite gym partner. "Nice to see we've got good neighbors again."

"Oh, cool! You down the hall?"

"No, we're in _here_," she answered, indicating the door with a hitched thumb.

"I thought CRDL was in there," Nora replied, her eyebrow crooking upward.

"So did they, apparently," Blake clarified as Yang pounded on the door again.

"You said ten minutes!" came the mostly discernible reply from inside.

"You kicked 'em out, huh?"

"Nah, Ozpin did," Yang replied. "Hey, Ren."

"Hello, ladies," he said evenly, standing directly behind Nora.

"RWBY is across the hall again this year, Renny! Can you say 'slumber party', Pyrrha?" she asked over her shoulder.

"You know it!" Yang replied enthusiastically.

"Yes!" Ruby added.

"Hello again!" Pyrrha chimed in as she stepped out of the dorm room, gently nudging her two teammates aside.

"Hey, P-money! How're you guys settling in?"

"Well enough, I suppose. The new dorm layout has been...interesting," she said cryptically.

"Yeah, harder to get a peek at your boytoy without his shirt, huh?"

"Nah, we're partnered up in here," Nora added helpfully. "Besides, not like we didn't get a show this morning, huh, Pyr-Pyr?"

"That wasn't exactly the point, Nora."

"Ooh, moving quick, huh?"

"Not exactly, no," she said, mostly succeeding at keeping the disappointment out of her voice.

"You _sure _you don't want me to pound some sense into him?"

"No!" Pyrrha shot back vehemently before she took a breath to calm down. "That's not necessary, I promise."

"If you say so," Yang replied with a shrug. "Speaking of, where _is_ Vomit Boy?"

"Fearless Leader, you mean?" Nora replied testily.

"Potato, tomato," Yang answered, waving off the question with her hand.

"Jaune had to take care of submitting his class selections and a few other things. He said it might take a while," Pyrrha said, looking around for a moment before her face got a curious look on it. "Where's Weiss?"

"She said she had some things to take...care...of," Ruby replied, going from chipper to worried in a second.

"You don't think…" Yang began, glancing at her sister while Blake retrieved her Scroll and opened it.

"She's in the Combat Arts building," Blake announced flatly.

"That was quick," Yang muttered.

"I tweaked her Scroll's locator settings while she was asleep last night," Blake clarified nonchalantly.

"Ooh, nice one kitty cat," she complimented her partner, who merely rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"It gets us through your _brilliant_ ideas more quickly."

"I knew you loved me, Blake!"

"Aaaaand Jaune-Jaune is...in the Combat Arts building," Nora informed everyone, her own curiosity piqued as she looked up from her own Scroll.

"That's an odd coincidence." Blake said, an eyebrow raised.

"Bound to be deserted this time of night with dinner being served. Perfect for a little _romantic rendezvous_," Yang added with a grin and suggestively wiggling eyebrows.

"He said they were just friends," Pyrrha began quietly, sounding _hurt_ to Yang's ears.

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, Red, but those two ditched us and snuck off into Vale yesterday morning to go 'shopping'," Yang said with air quotes for the last word.

"No. I refuse to believe he'd lie to me," Pyrrha said softly to no one in particular.

"Only one way to find out," Yang replied with a knowing smile.

"I...no, I trust my partner, Yang," she said steadily.

"We _do_ need to stow our weapons," Blake suggested with a shrug, well aware that Yang would not be dissuaded.

"Yeah! And if you guys wanted to tag along to catch up, that's _totally_ not spying, right?"

"I...guess not," Pyrrha remarked.

"Perfect!" Yang exclaimed victoriously. "Can we leave our bags in your room for now? Ours is being cleaned and had _better be done by the time we get back_!" she shouted through the closed door.

"Sure!" Nora piped up, always ready for mischief. Ruby, Blake and Yang dropped their backpacks on the floor just inside JNPR's door as Nora clambered onto Ren for a slothback ride. "Onward, faithful steed!" she ordered, her mount dutifully lumbering forward towards the staircase at a brisk walking pace, the rest of the girls following after.

* * *

The six friends crept forward slowly, the muffled conversation they were homing in on growing louder with each stealthy step. Blake led the way as the resident infiltrator, and Pyrrha reluctantly formed the rearguard, their four friends squished between the two of them. A raised hand from their point woman brought the group up short, Ruby smacking into Yang's backside before Nora's body collided with her, nearly collapsing the entire group. Yang's mouth opened to shush them all but Blake's hand covered it preemptively, her amber eyes narrowed to cow the rest of the group. As they all finally settled down just outside the open door to one of the larger sparring rooms, they could all hear their quarry in conversation, their eyes going wide as they could make out the words.

"I must admit, Jaune, that I didn't think you had that kind of performance in you."

"Well, you're pretty inspiring when you want to be," Jaune said with a chuckle, sounding out of breath.

"Remember that you asked for this."

"I suppose I did. I didn't think you'd set such a hard pace to start. I had trouble keeping up."

"You've got a lot of improvement to make. Thankfully, you have the stamina to keep up with my technique."

"Barely," he scoffed. "But seriously, thank you. I know if I'd tried to handle this myself, I would have just made a mess everywhere."

"Your strokes are crude, but effective. At the very least, I don't have to tell you to put more into them. The power you've managed to develop is actually quite impressive."

"I try my best."

"You'd better. You've got a _lot_ of improvement to make before I can be publicly associated with you," Weiss replied testily.

_Ouch_ Yang mouthed, a sympathetic grimace on her face, while Ruby was far redder than Yang might have liked given the conversation they were eavesdropping upon, while Pyrrha looked like someone had taken away her puppy.

"So you're saying there's a chance."

"You know what I meant," she replied testily. A quiet moment followed, broken only by the sound of the larger of the two shifting position.

"Another round?"

"Already?" Weiss asked in disbelief.

"Never know when we might have this much time to ourselves again."

"Put that thing away! We don't have time for that right now!" she protested.

Yang failed to suppress a snort of laughter at that one, no matter how much she wished to.

"Besides, everyone else is here spying on us," Weiss growled.

"Again?" Jaune grumbled as they stepped to the door and peeked around the corner. "Guys, seriously?"

The reaction to finding the pair in full combat dress rather than… _less_… was varied from nonchalance on Ren's part through Yang's disbelief and Pyrrha's outright relief, though the last was tempered with a hint of anger. Jaune's hair was plastered to his scalp with sweat, a fine sheen on his face and neck, while Weiss was her typically immaculate self.

"You said you were taking care of school matters, Jaune," his partner scolded gently.

"I was." He shrugged "I finished and found out Weiss had made it to Beacon, and she agreed to meet and give me some pointers. She's been using a sword for, well, forever, and I figured she could help me learn some things. I asked her yesterday, and she was nice enough to agree to it."

"So you _didn't _ask her on a date?" Ruby asked, an eyebrow arched skeptically.

"Let me spell this out for you, and I'll use small words so you'll be sure to understand, you _dolt_. Not my boyfriend, _not a date_," she growled.

"Don't have to be _mean_ about it," Ruby muttered, glowering at her equally peeved partner.

"Shyeah, Weiss. Take a chill pill," Yang said, trying to placate her.

"This whole thing is your fault in the first place, Yang!"

"Hey, you two!" Nora interjected, stepping between the pair. "There's only one way to settle this."

"Weiss getting the stick out of her ass?" Yang queried darkly.

"Yang learning to mind her own damn business?" Weiss countered angrily, most of the observers surprised to hear her swear.

"Trial by combat!" Nora corrected them both. "And oh, look! We have easy access to a sparring room!" she added cheerfully, eager to be a part of chaos and carnage again.

"Ehh, might wanna rethink that plan, Nora," Jaune offered. "We kinda..._broke_ it."

"Broke what?"

"The room," he clarified.

The six leaned to the side to see past their friends, only to have a scene of unmitigated chaos greet them. Massive chunks of ice were everywhere; columns sprouting from the floor, huge deposits adorning the walls, even a steady stream of drops falling from a frozen stalactite hanging from the ceiling thirty feet above. Scorch marks from large scale fires as well as the localized points denoting high intensity electrical discharges marred the walls and floor. A ten foot tall slab of basalt tilted precariously, seemingly moments from falling to, and possibly _through_, the floor.

"Holy _crap_, Jaune. Goodwitch is gonna take a chunk out of your hide for this!" Nora remarked, simultaneously fearful and impressed by the scale of the destruction.

"We're at a combat school, Nora. It's not like we destroyed the dining hall," Jaune remarked.

"And precisely _who_ started that fight?" Weiss asked, her voice dangerously close to a growl.

"That was an accident!" Nora protested.

"And what do you call launching me through the roof?" Yang countered.

"Freaking awesome?" Nora answered with a maniacally mischievous grin.

"Ehh, I'll take that answer." Yang replied with a chuckle.

"Speaking of the dining hall, you all hungry?" Jaune asked, getting a consensus agreement from the group. "Let me go stow my gear and take a quick shower, and we'll all go together, okay?"

"Sure, Jaune!" Ruby piped up. "We need to drop our weapons off too. Come on, girls!" she cheered, leading the way to the locker room.

"We'll all meet up here, Ruby," Jaune called after them before turning to the rest of his team. "Really, guys?"

"It was all Yang's idea!" Nora immediately volunteered.

"Which made it a good idea _how_, again?"

"I...umm...Pyrrha?" she nervously passed the buck.

"I worry about you, Jaune. Please don't pretend I don't have reason to," she said softly.

Jaune sighed with downcast eyes, not happy in the least with getting called out in such a fashion. "All right, that's fair. Let's just promise ourselves we're going to work on this, okay?"

"That is more than sufficient, Jaune," Ren replied, his hands clasping both Pyrrha and Nora by the shoulder.

"All right. Lemme go get cleaned up, be right back, I promise."

"We'll be waiting with bells on!" Nora replied as he walked down the hall towards the showers, waiting until he was out of earshot before continuing. "Is it just me or does Jaune-Jaune seem...different?"

"A traumatic experience often changes…" Ren began before Nora's eyes went wide with a gasp of realization.

"He was replaced with a pod person!"

"Those don't actually exist, Nora," Ren countered, his voice even yet still filled with warmth.

"Aww, come on! It's totally obvious! Unless...Ren?"

"Yes, Nora?"

"Are you a pod person too?"

"No, Nora."

"That's just what a pod person would say!" Nora said breathlessly.

Pyrrha could only chuckle at the interplay between the pair, her heart lightened by the return to familiar ground. Deciding to stay out of their exchange, her eyes returned to the aftermath of Jaune's spar with Weiss. The direction of most of the strikes could be discerned easily enough, though some, like the column of stone, could have been thrown from anywhere. The amount of dust Weiss had used against Jaune was almost exorbitant, but then again, it _was_ Weiss.

Yet something bothered her, a piece of the puzzle not quite fitting correctly. She looked again, trying to imagine the course of the combat, a fair sight more difficult without the pea gravel floor she'd grown up training upon. Suddenly, a strange idea drifted through her mind, causing her to flinch in surprise.

"That can't be right," she muttered to no one in particular.

**AN: Buckle up, folks, next chapter is gonna be a **_**doozy**_**.**

**And long. Very long I think.**


	19. Into the Fire

**Chapter 19**

**Into the Fire**

"All right everyone, listen up!" Coco Adel bellowed, her half-thigh boots pounding out a firm cadence as she stomped onto stage while plucking a twig from her hair. "Sorry it took a little while for us to get back, but now we can kick things off properly," she announced from the central podium of Beacon Auditorium, gazing over her sunglasses to regard the crowd. The student body, minus the aspiring freshmen at least, had been assembled in full battle gear, and were now focused on the charismatic third-year student.

"As has been tradition since the second freshman class began initiation, we, their elders gather to watch over them, to see how they follow in our footsteps. Yadda yadda yadda, all that tradition crap, right?" Coco began solemnly before she changed gears, tossing the prepared note cards aside to flutter to the floor. "_Yes_, we're here and ready to intervene _if _they need it, but we all know it's just an excuse to hang out, do a little meet and greet with any new transfers, and get reacquainted with each other."

"And the side bets!" one of the newly-minted seniors shouted from the back of the auditorium.

"Yes! _And_ the side bets. Thank you, Thom," Coco fired back with a smile. "You all have the pool sheets in your Scrollmail, those are fifty lien a person, payable to Thomas Blackwell over there," she said, pointing in his direction and getting a raised hand in response. "Proceeds benefit the Amundsen Huntsmen's Orphanage this year, by the way. Anything else is between you all, with only one rule; we don't bet on survival or failure. I catch _anyone _doing that, and we'll be having _words_," she threatened solemnly, patting Gianduja as it dangled from her shoulder and pulling her sunglasses back up to convey a no nonsense facade.

"So anyway, have fun, and don't wander off. The team ceremony starts right after the last initiates get back, so don't forget about it," she added, the last bit casually, as if it was an afterthought for her.

"I can't believe this is actually a tradition," Weiss huffed, looking at her Scroll. "First kill, most air time, first to pass," she listed off several categories as she read.

"It's just harmless fun, Weiss," Yang countered, already ticking boxes and selecting names from the dropdown menus. "And it's for charity!" she added. "Ooh, yeah, Mountain Boy is a shoo in for first on the ground. Bet he flies like a _brick_," she said softly to Blake, who was busy reading to absolutely no one's surprise.

Ruby was engrossed in her own Scroll, though whether she was in the betting pool or just playing a game, Jaune couldn't tell. He glanced over to his own team, seeing Nora and Ren going over her sheet. She was babbling excitedly while Ren offered the odd word of advice, or correction, here and there. Pyrrha was close at his side, smiling at the camaraderie of their two teams but offering little verbal feedback as yet. "Whaddya say, Pyrrha? Wanna help me with mine?"

"I suppose I could give you some advice, Jaune," she said, resting her chin on his shoulder to look down at his Scroll, "I've seen him fight, and he's far better suited for combat in an arena than against the Grimm," she said of one selection he'd almost made for kill total.

"Good call, thanks, Pyr," he said, favoring her with a smile that she returned with a slight blush on her cheeks. Jaune made some more fairly arbitrary choices in the categories he didn't know enough about, and hit the randomizer for partnerships before tapping the _send_ button. "I'm gonna go pay up. Be right back, okay?"

"All right, Jaune. We'll be waiting here," Pyrrha replied. "I might grab a drink from the punch bowl over there," she added, the tables and chairs set up for their comfort during the wait not dressed, for ease of removal later in the day.

"Do me a favor?" Yang asked, waving her entry fee in his direction.

"Yeah, sure. Anyone else?" he asked, having to leap to grab the lien card Nora tossed absently in his direction.

"Well, if it's for charity," Weiss began, slipping him a card as well.

"Me too!" Ruby chimed in. "Do you have fifty lien, Weiss?" she whispered to her partner.

"Of course you don't," Weiss grumbled, pulling another card from her well-concealed pocket. "Here," she said to Jaune, who stacked the cards and ambled off towards the fourth-year section of the unofficially-segregated room. The upperclassmen were, for the most part, familiar to him, though there were a few transfer students he didn't recognize. Jaune took his place in line, waiting patiently while Thom collected money and checked off names on his Scroll. When his turn finally came, he got a flinch out of the gregarious senior.

"Damn, I've never met a zombie before."

"Me either," Jaune replied with a scowl. "That's mine, Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long and Nora Valkyrie."

"Done, done done done, aaaand done," Thom replied, checking a box for each entry on his Scroll. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he added with a smirk.

"Thanks," Jaune replied, trying to keep from being surly about things. Returning to the table, he found Yang and Nora arm wrestling, Ruby acting as the entire cheerleading section while Blake read and the rest of the two sister teams watched with varying degrees of amusement.

"I got you a snack, Jaune," Pyrrha said, drawing his attention to the small plate of finger foods sitting next to a cup of punch.

"Thanks, Pyr. Yang hasn't been around the punch bowl, has she?" he asked, regarding the beverage with suspicion.

"Hey, there's a..._hnngh_...code to that," she shot back, trying to power through her stalemate with Nora.

"Which is?" Jaune asked.

"Never before sunset, duhh," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Easier to get away with it?" Pyrrha asked, genuinely curious.

"Less people wanting to wander off for drunken hookups."

"Of _course _it was that," Weiss growled softly.

"Hey, everybody, how's everything going?" Coco asked as she walked up to the table, taking her role as Master of Ceremonies to heart.

"The food is delightful, Coco," Weiss began, "but the entertainment is..._subpar_," she added, cutting her gaze over to the struggle between the two girls.

"Five lien on Yang," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Ha!" Yang barked through a grunt of effort.

"To _lose_," Coco clarified.

"What?" Yang asked, her eyes going wide a split second before the back of her hand was slammed into the table.

"Gotta keep your concentration, kiddo," she reminded her, Yang and Nora both flexing the feeling back into their hands, Nora beaming with pride. "And you, Arc. Good job getting everyone worked up over you."

"Yeah, tell me something I haven't heard," Jaune groused.

"I hear ya. Still, don't do that again. I'd hate to have to kick your ass."

"Get in line," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, Coco, have you…" Cardin Winchester began, trailing off the second he saw Jaune. He'd walked up behind them undetected during their conversation, which was an accomplishment considering his size. "Jaune?" he asked in genuine surprise.

Jaune simply shrugged. "I lived, bitch," he deadpanned, throwing a hush over the entire table. "What? Is that not a meme anymore?" he asked, having been out of the loop for nearly the entire summer.

Cardin was the first to break his silence, a snort of laughter escaping his nose as a cocky smile bloomed on his face. "Not dead, _and_ your testicles finally dropped. Good job," he said sarcastically, tapping him lightly in the shoulder with a closed prosthetic fist.

"Hey, Coco," Velvet Scarlatina chirped, taking up station next to her partner, her hand over her scroll to briefly mute her end of whatever conversation she was involved in. "Neon's doing a detailed teardown of her legs to get everything running right again and Flynt is helping her, so they're sidelined until further notice."

"Crap. Well, we should have enough people here if anything goes sideways," Coco replied, patting the large olive green Mistrali-style pauldron Velvet was now sporting on her left shoulder as part of her combat gear.

"Yeah, I guess we do. Hello, everyone," Velv added with a smile for the table before taking a step back to resume her call, pinching the bridge of her nose as her eyes squinted, ears drooping slightly. "Damn it, Mum. She's not Dad; never was! It's been ten years!"

Coco's eyebrow ticked up a moment, worrying about her partner before she reminded herself to not treat Velvet like a porcelain doll, returning her attention to the one thing she knew she could do something about. "Did you need something, Cardin?" she asked, still not entirely trusting of his motives.

"Got what I came for, actually. Later," he said before wandering off to find the rest of his team.

"He's got some kind of balls just walking up to this table like that," Yang complained, forking over a five spot to Coco who slid it into a pocket on her nearly painted-on trousers.

"He's made amends," Coco volunteered, getting wide-eyed blinks from nearly everyone at the table. "Velvet visited him while he was in hospital, and he apologized for everything. Well, the Faunus-related stuff at least," she amended.

"Huh. I wonder what finally got it through his thick skull," Weiss opined.

"Probably when she saved his life, Weiss," Jaune offered, getting a soft hum of agreement in reply.

"And get a load of _you _all, looking sharp this year," Coco said with a smile, yanking Jaune's collar back to inspect the tag. "Thought so," she added smugly.

"It was on sale," Jaune replied with a shrug, unashamed.

"_So_ last season, but it looks nice on you. Elegant, nice, _very_ nice, spunky," she added, taking in Weiss, Ruby, Ren and Nora in turn. "And _you _two," she said, turning to Blake and Yang, "stand up, lemme see," she demanded, the both of them seeing no harm in indulging Beacon's resident fashion maven. "This is some quality work. I might have to give this shop a looksee some day," she added, feeling the fabric of Blake's new coat between her fingers.

"Oh!" Yang exclaimed. "I almost forgot." She began checking her pockets, finally plucking out a printed business card and handing it to Coco. "Deal's a deal," she added, getting a curiously raised eyebrow in response.

"Going high end now, I see," she began, a mischievous grin forming for a brief moment before it vanished, replaced by a flat look of disdain over her sunglasses. "I should've known," she said softly, a rough growl in her voice. "No matter, looks decent enough on you, despite the pedestrian taste in designers," she said, affecting a bored tone as she casually flicked her brother's business card into the crowd.

"Oooh, Blake! Coco liked our outfits!" Yang squealed in sarcastic glee.

"Don't push it, kid," Coco replied, rolling with the joke. "Are all the cameras still checking out, Velv?"

"Yes, thank God. I really don't want to have to fix any more of those things."

"You and me both," Coco replied. "We had to do the last minute camera repairs in the Emerald Forest before initiation. Kind of a test run for the new team," she explained.

"Team?" Ruby asked, knowing the two girls had both lost their partners.

"Team CFVN, baddest team in Beacon," she said with a cocky smirk. "Just glad we could stay on brand."

"I bet Doctor Oobleck loves it," Yang quipped.

"Believe it or not, he drinks decaf," Coco answered.

"What!?" Ruby squeaked in disbelief.

"Friend of mine TA'd for him two years ago," she reassured them. "He's allergic to the stuff."

"That can't be possible," Jaune mumbled in disbelief.

"You calling me a liar?" Coco asked, an edge in her voice, an eyebrow cocked in challenge.

"What? No!" Jaune tried to deflect, looking around for an ally at the table and finding none.

"Good," she said with a predatory smile. "Well, I've got more people to check on, and I need to run final checks on all the cameras before they start, in...crap, seven minutes?!" she said in alarm, spotting the time display on her tablet. "Catch ya later, kids," she added before ambling off to the next table, Velvet in tow.

"It's good to see they're not getting held back by everything that happened," Pyrrha said with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm happy for them too. Especially after everything Velvet's been through," Jaune echoed.

"Hate to break it to you, champ, but they're an item," Yang interjected.

"And why would I care?"

"Ehhh, thought maybe you were into the cute, quiet ones?" she asked hypothetically.

"I thought maybe we were past this?" he said, growing annoyed with the exchange.

"Where's Professor Goodwitch?" Ruby wondered idly, the camera feed from the launch platforms flickering to life on the large screen behind the podium. The audience could all see Ozpin standing there like they all remembered him, mug in hand a ward against the morning breeze, but with Doctor Oobleck standing next to him, a large tablet in hand as his fingers swept through the camera feeds for a final check. The initiates were still filtering out of the locker room, weapons and attire running the gamut from formal to utilitarian, from plain to gaudy, and from functional to just plain _weird_.

"Ozpin mentioned something about her being busy and a promotion," Jaune said, picking at his food and finding a golden brown deep fried egg roll and downing half of it in one bite. "Oh, hau I'hff mished you," he mumbled with his mouth full.

"You really were out in the wilds the whole time, huh?" Pyrrha asked, smirking at the simple joy Jaune was taking in his food.

"My diet would have bored a monk," he declared flatly before stuffing the rest of the egg roll in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. "I swear, if I never see another soybean, it'll be too soon."

"While they are quite nutritious, I would agree that being forced to eat them for three months straight would be unsatisfying," Ren piped up, idly going through the various camera feeds on one of the tablet Scrolls that had been provided to each table. "Huh. Why is this one named 'idiot hole'?" he asked, showing the tablet to the rest of the table. A large cave entrance, with what appeared to be petroglyphs scrawled in charcoal around its mouth showed no activity, but was monitored regardless.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Jaune said quietly, a nervous smile on his face. "Hey, didn't know Coco had a brother," he added, swiping back to the entirety of this year's initiate roster.

"Guy in black, pad twenty-seven," Yang pointed out, falling for the misdirection.

"Huh. I drew him for first launch," Jaune muttered, one of the categories that had been randomly assigned on their pool sheets. "And it looks like we're starting," he added, the feed showing Ozpin beginning to address the initiates as a group.

* * *

Roy shifted on the launch platform at the far right end of the line, nervously eyeing the other students and almost tuning the Headmaster out. Something didn't seem right, and the fact that all these hotshot initiates from their hoity toity combat schools failed to show any signs of noticing was unnerving in the extreme. Additionally, the looks Roy's combat attire had received ranged from curious to disdainful, like full cargo pockets were the mark of the Grimm or something. For not the first time since Sunday, Carlos Marron was silently cursed for having had a convincing argument _and_ enough pull to wrangle an admission out of what was supposed to be the premier Huntsman academy in all the Kingdoms.

"Right. Landing strategy, whatever _that_ is, find a partner, fossick about for a relic, get back 'ere, don't die," Roy muttered, more a mnemonic aid than anything. "Piece o'piss. So, 'ow are we…" escaped chapped lips before the majority of the students left and right dropped into a crouch, most with weapons at the ready. Roy's gaze swept the area for nearby Grimm, finding none in the relatively open clifftop. The honey badger Faunus' heart started to hammer away in its bony prison, panic setting in at an unseen threat before an initiate at the far end of the line vaulted high into the air.

"Someone's eager," Roy remarked to the young Mistrali man next in line, garbed in a loose kimono and wielding a traditional _daisho_. He barely gave Roy a sidelong glance before the next initiate took to the air, followed by two more even closer to their end, the deployed position of their platforms visible now. "Oh you 'ave _got_ to be shittin' meeeeeeeeee…" trailed off into the Emerald Forest.

* * *

A soft chime could be heard at the JNPR/RWBY table, Weiss checking her personal Scroll for the notification. "Hmm, looks like I won first launch. Ten lien," she commented, popping a petit fours into her mouth and chewing like a prim and proper princess.

"And you didn't want to enter," Yang chided her.

"It's still _barbaric_, but it's for charity," she justified.

"Ooh, haven't seen form that bad since _last _year," Nora said of a platinum blond Faunus tumbling through the air, giving a cackling laugh and looking towards Jaune. "At least he's got good taste in weapons," she added upon spying the large sledgehammer the initiate clung to for dear life.

"Ugh, don't remind me," Jaune grumbled, Pyrrha's gloved hand patting his shoulder in reassurance.

"You've come quite a ways from that first day, Jaune."

"Uhh, yeah. Sure. Let's go with that," he muttered, remembering his landing on Patch scant days before.

* * *

Eyes of a blue so pale as to appear white squinted against the fierce wind as Luz sailed through the air, her shoulder length ebony hair stinging when it whipped against her neck. The trees below were a green blur, one that she was headed into with alarming speed. Weighing her options, she unslung Okichmiki, the massive macuahuitl catching air like the oversized boat oar it resembled and altering her course momentarily before it was brought to bear. Channeling her Aura through the central entropy Dust crystal, Luz activated a second, slightly less black crystal and an aura of purple-tinted ebon energy wreathed her form, her velocity decreasing sharply.

An Ursa paid her no heed as she sailed silently past, just above the treetops before she reached a small clearing and pulsed another trickle of Aura into her weapon to change her vector again. Her knees barely bent as she touched down, dark brown leather boots under her long combat skirt crunching softly in the leaf litter. The quiet of the forest was unbroken save for the scattered reports of gunfire from all around her as initiates utilized their weapons to keep from becoming a stain on the forest floor.

Pale eyes scanned the forest in the direction she'd come, hoping that the Grimm hadn't picked up a trace of her apprehension. The size of the oak and maple trees around her wasn't helping, the arid reaches of her homeland not having trees in any sort of abundance, and even then, they were usually warped and stunted by the perpetual drought they subsisted in. Relaxing at last, she reslung her weapon, pulling her hood back into place to shade her eyes and shield her painted face.

Luz flinched and spun around as a sizable explosion tore a chunk out of a tree a short distance behind her, tendrils of smoke trailing from a few of the smaller splinters of wood sticking out of the hole. Thanking whatever divine providence had kept her out of the direct path of the round her apparently xylophobic classmate had fired, she turned around again at the snap of a small branch in the direction of the Ursa. Luz' right hand returned to the hilt of her weapon, preparing to draw until she froze. A horrible, groaning sound came from behind her, paralyzing her with its unfamiliarity, her brain scrambling to interpret the crackling moan.

* * *

"Hey, Bun Bun, you okay?" Coco asked, taking a seat next to Velvet, whose gaze was fixed on the scroll she held in her lap. "Who called?"

"Huh? Oh, it's...it's nothing. Family business."

"Doesn't _look _like 'nothing', Velv."

She sighed in response, shoulders slumping slightly as some of the tension left them. "It's just… You ever have something come up you never thought you'd have to deal with again?"

"Occupational hazard when you play the field," she answered honestly.

"Well, it's not an old girlfriend, if that's what you're getting at."

"I should hope not. You _said _I was your first, after all," she added, gently bumping shoulders with her partner.

"Have you ever known me to lie?"

"You _did_ tell me you weren't into women," Coco answered, poking her partner in the ribs over that one.

"I didn't _think _I was," Velvet answered sheepishly.

"_And_ you're avoiding the subject," she chided her softly.

"S'pose I am," Velvet answered softly, her rabbit ears drooping to either side a little more. "My sister's out there," she said at last.

"I thought you didn't _have _any siblings, Velv."

"Half-sister, actually. Turns out Dad was a bit of a cad," Velvet admitted reluctantly

"Oh."

"Yeah. Didn't help that Dad died six months after he'd brought her home to Mum and me."

"I take it things didn't go smoothly?"

"Is the sky blue?" Velvet asked with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "I haven't seen her in seven years. She ran away after I started at Pharos. Not a word from 'er since."

"That's...awkward," Coco stated, at a loss for words for once. "Wait a minute, you mean out _there_ out there?" she asked, pointing in the general direction of the Emerald Forest.

"Yeah," Velvet replied, her gaze falling again. "Didn't even know she was interested in bein' a Huntress."

"Well, you've got access to all the cameras, see if you can't find her. I'd help, but I've got a brother to look after, okay?"

"All right." Velvet gave a melancholic smile. Coco draped an arm across her back, squeezing Velvet gently to her.

"It's gonna be alright, Bun Bun. Hell, maybe we'll get to be her mentor team." Coco patted her shoulder in reassurance.

"I didn't think they were going to do that with us," Velvet countered, their own, newly-formed team still needing to jell.

"We're pretty low on the list, I think, but if they have the full slate pass initiation, who knows? What, you want _Cardin_ doing it?"

"I never said that, Coco."

"I should hope not. Now go on, find your sister and stop worrying. Okay, stop worrying _as much_," Coco quickly corrected, handing Velvet a tablet Scroll from the table before getting back to her own.

* * *

_Okay, you get one shot at this_, Nick Argento thought to himself, the flip-down shoulder stock and pistol grip of his weapon both deployed as he hurtled through the air. Nearly to the ground, he pulled the trigger, Timberfang barking harshly as the single round in the chamber detonated, sending a twenty millimeter slug downrange and a massive amount of recoil into his shoulder, greatly slowing his descent.

The reduction in velocity allowed him the leeway to strike the forest floor at the leisurely speed of fifty miles per hour. Nick rolled with the impact, grunting and tumbling fifteen yards in the soft loam before he clambered to his feet, massive felling axe at the ready. Finding his immediate surroundings clear, he relaxed a little, briskly snapping open the action of his rifle, the reload sliding into the breech before the empty casing had hit the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief, he shouldered Timberfang, looking about for a moment before spying the brass shell casing on the ground. Those things weren't cheap, after all. Bending to pick it up, his fingertips gripping the reinforcing band just forward of the case head, and he paused momentarily. The pattern of grooves cut into the band caused him to frown, the high explosive round not having been what he'd wanted to have had loaded during the launch.

"Damn," he muttered, knowing well from having to hand load his ammunition that what he'd fired was less than optimal for slowing his descent. _No harm, no foul, I guess_, he thought, until the horrid, plaintive groan of a wounded tree succumbing to gravity reached him from a hundred yards downrange. This was followed by the rustle and snap of leaves rushing through the air and branches being snapped out of the way before the crown of whatever tree struck the ground with a loud _whumpf_. Watching and later working alongside his father had made the sound almost music to his ears, surely enough timber to net several hundred lien once they brought it to the sawmill.

What _wasn't_ musical was the very human shriek of rage he heard from the same direction, and he grimaced in dread, hoping his mistake wasn't the cause.

A brief jog later, Nick arrived at a newly-crafted opening in the forest canopy, an oak tree with a nearly two foot trunk having been dropped by his errant shot. He regarded the splintered, still-smoking stump briefly before hearing a rustle beneath the felled oak's crown. "Hello?" he called, readying his weapon again just in case.

Several grunts of frustration reached his ears before a wordless, womanly shriek of anger sounded from the leafy prison. "_Hijo de puta madre!_" she shouted.

"Okay, hold still and let me trim this down so we can get you out, okay?"

"Hurry up!" came the irritable answer. "I saw an Ursa just before I landed!"

"On it," he answered, his axe blows powerful and precise. Each one cleaved through limbs in a single stroke, some nearly a foot thick. Every few strokes he paused, tossing massive tree limbs aside like they were toothpicks and checking his surroundings before resuming his work, unwilling to be caught in an ambush. Once he'd cleared enough, he stopped, taking a step back before focusing on his Semblance, his father's trusted beast of burden foremost in his mind.

A billowing cloud of dark blue mist formed and coalesced into a massive ox nearly as tall as he was at the shoulder, Nick smiling a bit as he patted the simulacrum between the horns. "Need a little help here, buddy," he told it, getting a nod and stamp of the hoof in reply. With a grunt of effort, the blue ox joined Nick at the shattered end of the tree trunk, digging low with its horns and helping him lift and swing it out of the way. The crash as it rolled down the gentle slope was unavoidable, and Nick couldn't help but feel even more exposed, another perimeter check made before he heard the other initiate push their way through what was left of their prison.

Luz Martinez busied herself brushing the last of the debris from her body, growling irritably at the tear she'd picked up near the hem of her cloak. "_A la chingada_," she muttered before she stopped, remembering her fellow initiate standing beside her.

"Sorry about that; one in a million shot, really," he said with an embarrassed grimace. "Nick Argento," he added more confidently, extending a massive, hirsute hand.

"Luz Martinez-Rios," she replied, shaking his hand briefly. "_Perdoname_," she added almost as an afterthought, taking a step to the side before unlimbering Okichmiki, the nearly six foot long macuahuitl decidedly unfamiliar to his eyes. She stepped into a powerful, uppercutting swing that conjured a spike of ice nearly fifteen feet long, sharply angled to impale the charging Ursa square in the chest, stopping it in its tracks. Luz hadn't even registered Nick's movements before his axe whirled in multiple overhead strokes. The first hit lopped off a paw mid-swipe, the second took the rest of the foreleg just below the shoulder, and the third buried the axe head dead center of the Ursa's skull, silencing the snarling Grimm before it crumbled to ash.

"Was beginning to wonder if you were going to do something about that," Nick remarked jocularly.

"And _I_ was beginning to wonder if my partner was deaf," she said, cracking a smile.

Nick was about to offer another joke when he finally got to see Luz fully, her hood draped back over her shoulders. He was certainly glad her height wouldn't make her hard to keep track of in a fight, but what brought him short was her face. Her eyes were so pale as to appear wholly white with black pupils, set in a face painted white with intricate patterns of black lines delineating an ornate sugar skull from Southern Sanusan folklore.

"Well, _that's _different."

"_La cara de penitencia_," she offered simply. "Perhaps one day I will tell you about it. Is this yours?" she asked, the ethereal ox nudging insistently at her hand as if expecting a treat.

"Yeah, he gets a little playful sometimes," Nick said, ruffling the blue headfur. "All right, Babe, naptime," he added, letting the thread of Aura he'd kept up maintaining the construct dwindle and die, the Semblance-fueled beast of burden evaporating into the breeze with a soft, plaintive _moo_.

"I was hoping for a ride."

"Takes a little too much Aura to keep it up for long periods," Nick explained, getting an understanding nod in return.

"If I tell you to cover your ears, do it. My Semblance is, how you say…?" she trailed off, her hands flapping as if to conjure the word out of thin air.

"Loud?"

"_Pues, si,_ but, more like it doesn't tell Grimm from people."

"Indiscriminate," Nick offered for clarification.

"That's the one," Luz replied, raising a finger for emphasis. "Do you know where we're supposed to go?" she asked, looking about for signs of a trail or other initiates.

"I'd bet we were at least thrown in the general direction of our targets, soooo, that way?" he indicated with a nod of his head.

"Better than nothing," Luz agreed, swinging her weapon onto her back again before the two of them set off into the woods.

* * *

"Damn it!" Yang muttered, another of her pool bets failing to pay off.

"It's not that big of a deal, Yang," Ruby reassured her.

"Says the girl who's perfect on her partner list," she grumbled.

"That was totally random!" she protested. "Besides, there are still plenty of people left for that," she added, trying to lift her sister's spirits.

"I still don't see the logic behind completely random partnerships," Weiss said.

"Some would argue that it prepares us to see the best in each other, regardless of our origins," Pyrrha volunteered.

"Once we've graduated, we will likely be forced to work with other Huntsmen who we have little to no prior experience with," Ren added.

"Or the faculty couldn't be bothered with trying to play matchmaker and keep everyone happy. Sounds like a headache, really," Jaune countered.

"Maybe. Anyone at this table unhappy with their partner, though?" Ruby asked, glancing around the table at the rest of the two teams. Nora was beaming, with even Ren showing a soft smile, and Pyrrha and Jaune giving each other a knowing look. Her own partner gave Ruby a sidelong glance, a knowing smirk answering her better than words could, and Yang was eagerly hugging Blake to her, whose eyes were rolling in spite of the soft smile she wore. "Didn't think so," she pronounced with a sly smirk.

* * *

Mate Adel wasn't one for heights, to be sure, but he was managing to keep his breakfast where it belonged for the moment. More troublesome was keeping his hat on his head, given the roaring wind resulting from his trajectory into the Emerald Forest. He was thankful for his choice of blue-tinted glasses to match his ascot, as they were making it easier to see the rapidly approaching trees. Holding his hat in place with his left hand, Mate plucked his cane from the magnetic coupler on his belt with his right, swinging it back to point behind him. A flick of the thumb switch deployed six narrow spars like the limbs of an umbrella, vibrating slightly in the wind before a pale blue hardlight field flared to life between them, forming a barrier that a second button press expanded upon. The increased drag slowed Mate considerably as his vector transitioned from nearly horizontal to vertical.

Well-polished boots hit the ground with a generous bend of the knees, the impact dissipated easily through practiced form. Mate quickly stowed his cane back to its normal form, switching it to his left hand and drawing his beautifully filigreed revolver with his right, eyes quickly surveying the small clearing he'd managed to land in. "Almost a disappointment," he muttered softly at the absence of opposition, but he was smiling regardless. Reholstering Cimarron, he took a deep breath, channeling Aura into his Semblance, feeling a distant tingle just at the edge of his perception. "I knew you'd be watching," he remarked softly, his smile growing further as he tipped his wide-brimmed hat ever so slightly for the benefit of a nearby camera.

* * *

"You cheeky little…" Coco Adel muttered in half-admiration, her lips curling into a cocky smirk reflected in the tablet Scroll she held. Lowering the tablet, she continued her tour amongst the tables, her responsibilities as Master of Ceremonies something she took quite seriously, even in spite of her nerves. She'd never admit it aloud, let alone within earshot of Mate, but she did love her little brother. Rivalries aside, he was _family_, damn it.

* * *

For nowhere near the first time in his life, Mate was grateful for his hat, the only piece that had remained relatively static in his wardrobe for the last five years. The early afternoon sun was beginning to beat down on the Emerald Forest, and his choice of eyewear was more on the fashionable rather than functional side. Between the two, he was satisfied, his bleary eyes not having to bear the full brunt of the sunlight as he trudged through the forest in what he hoped was the right direction.

He cocked his head as he heard a soft, rumbling sound from the ground in front of him, before jumping back when a large, irregular slab of sandstone erupted from the dirt. Without a moment's delay, he grasped his cane, thumbing the release mechanism and drawing a needle-like blade from it to deal with whatever subterranean Grimm had decided to test him. What he got instead was a prolonged shout, growing rapidly in volume before the source could be identified behind him. Looking back, Mate could see a fellow initiate in freefall, headed straight for the rock.

"iiiiiiiIIIIIIIITTTT!" he made out before the plummeting student hit the sandstone with a sickening crunch before he could formulate a plan to stop them.

"Well, that _is_ unfortunate," Mate remarked with a shocked grimace before he could hear movement in the small crater that had been formed. The sound of loose tiles moving against each other heralded a clawed hand bursting through the debris, which looked like thin sheets of pale orange stone. Blinking once at the seeming indestructibility of his new friend, Mate sheathed his blade before reinforcing the aura around his right forearm, reaching forth and grabbing the faunus' arm at the wrist and pulling.

The clatter of stones was near deafening for a moment, but soon enough, Mate had his new partner out of the hole, and looking like a literal mole. Miner's goggles were slightly askew but had still done their job, protecting the eyes through the flight and impact. His partner brushed themselves off vigorously, shaking chunks of stone, sand and dust off their body before reaching back into the pile of stone and yanking a large sledgehammer free. Testing the folding pick on the back side and finding it in working order, black-clawed fingers removed the goggles, allowing a look at the crater and then back towards the cliffs where they'd all been less than a minute prior.

"What kind of fuckin' nutter just chucks folk off a fuckin' _cliff_?" they asked. "And what in the nine 'ells is a 'landing strategy'?"

"You don't have one, I take it?" Mate asked, genuinely curious now. "We had to create one to even _graduate _at Pharos Academy," he added.

"What the hell do you need one for, aside from drongos like that Ozpin git? Is 'e off 'is face?"

"Officially, it's for getting airdropped into a hot zone when your transport can't land safely. _Un_officially, it's for defying death and impressing ladies in one tidy package. Take your pick."

"Typical," Roy muttered before looking around. "Nobody else then?"

"It does not appear so, partner," Mate replied with a slight smile.

"Well then, put 'er there, mate," he said, extending a rather scary-looking hand, four inch long claws tipping each finger.

"It's Mah-tay, actually," he said, shaking his partner's hand regardless.

"What?"

"My name. Mate Adel," he said, his voice trailing off as he felt the rush of a new Semblance in his grasp. His partner was talking, but instead Mate was lost in the link that Sync created, every aspect of his partner's Semblance laid bare to him. "Well isn't that a peach?" he whispered before making eye contact again.

"...but you can call me Roy," he finished, letting go of the handshake. "Sorry about the mess, it was all I could think of."

"Any landing you can walk away from is a good one, I've been told. I was rather surprised you survived it," he said, brushing his dirtied hand against his trousers.

"Yeah, well, I'm lucky I thought of it. Sandstone is pretty fragile; just have to set it up in thin layers," Roy added.

"I'll keep that in mind if the chance arises. Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards what he believed was their target with a smooth flourish of his hand.

"I reckon that works," Roy replied with a shrug, dislodging a shower of small pebbles from among the creases and pockets of a well-worn black leather vest.

* * *

"Is it just me or are there less Grimm than last year?" Ruby asked, having spent the last ten minutes impatiently flicking through camera feeds like a caffeinated weasel.

"Couldn't _possibly _be because someone hasn't managed to annoy their new partner nearly to death," Weiss reminded her.

"And we didn't have anyone awakening ancient Grimm by going into a clearly marked hazard zone," Yang chimed in quickly.

"Oh sure, bring _that_ up," Ruby and Jaune said simultaneously.

"Hey, you two, it all worked out in the end, right? You didn't try and ditch her, pretending you weren't partners at least," Jaune said to Weiss, who only gave him a nervous smile in response.

"W..why would you say that?"

"Well, I mean, I guess the cameras are pretty dense out there, but we didn't know that when _we_ were out there, right? There's gotta be _someone _who's tried to get a better partner at some point, right?"

"That's...preposterous! Against the rules, even!" Weiss protested vehemently.

"She totally tried to do that, didn't she?" Nora asked Ruby, her stage whisper a lower, conspiratorial tone.

"Well," Ruby began before Weiss covered her mouth.

"That doesn't matter! We're partners and best friends now! Anyone who says different is _woefully_ misinformed," Weiss said to reinforce her point.

"My BFF!" Ruby chirped, happily throwing her arm over Weiss' shoulders and squeezing her firmly. Weiss only sighed, returning the side hug with calm dignity. "I knew you missed me."

"I...I did, Ruby," she answered softly, smiling warmer than anyone at the table had ever seen.

* * *

"I must say I'm surprised, Roy," Mate began as they walked.

"What about, mate?"

"It's…"

"Look, mate is just a term for a friend, alright?

"Fair enough, I suppose. But as I was saying, a Semblance like yours, you could be mining more Dust than the SDC, and yet here you are at Beacon."

"What?..._How?_" Roy spluttered in disbelief.

"My Semblance allows me to identify and copy others'," he stated simply. Seeing that they'd reached a small ravine, Mate closed his eyes and placed his hand on Roy's shoulder; focusing on actually _copying _a Semblance for the first time was never easy. With a gentle grunt of effort, a thin slab of basalt erupted from the ground on the opposite side of the ravine, angled roughly towards their side before gravity took over and dropped the end nearly at their feet. Their bridge built, Mate exhaled heavily, shaking his shoulders loose again. "Takes a bit out of you, doesn't it?" he asked the flabbergasted Roy.

"Holy shit." Gently, Roy tapped at the stone bridge with a heavy boot, testing it and finding no fault with the rough construction. "You gotta feel me up every time?"

"Initially, yes."

"Brilliant," Roy grumbled.

"Thank you, kind sir," Mate replied with a slight bow, missing Roy's eyes rolling as he regarded his handiwork.

"After you," Roy gestured, unwilling to trust something made by someone else, regardless of how solid the stone appeared to be.

"Much obliged," he said, the heels of his boots clicking an even beat as he crossed. "That still doesn't answer my question, Roy."

"What? Why I'm 'ere?"

"Indeed," he reiterated, hopping off the bridge onto solid ground again, only a few trees left before they transitioned into a large meadow, with stone ruins on top of a short hill in the distance.

"It was me da', really," Roy said after thinking in silence for a while.

"Huntsman?"

"Yep. Though honestly, it's more to spite that raging bitch of a stepmum. She'll bite your 'ead off soon as look atcha. She hated him, _and_ me. _Her _daughter was always the perfect little princess to 'er, but me? Whatever beef she had with me da', didn't exactly endear _me _to 'er. Don't get me wrong; I've done my fair share o' diggin', but it's not in my blood like the rest of 'em. Good blokes mostly, 'specially the wildcatters," Roy added with a hint of admiration.

"Is that where you came up with this delightful ensemble?" Mate asked, gesturing to the rough and tumble outfit on his partner.

"Listen, you. Stands out like a dog's balls that you're really up yourself, but I've been looked down on by bigger and better than you, and I'm still standin' 'ere. So stop bein' a whacker and keep to business, all right?"

"Please do forgive me if I have offered offense, kind sir," Mate said smoothly, fully experienced with his tone seeming far more sarcastic than he'd intended.

Roy's mouth opened, presaging a facial expression of even greater offense, before it evaporated. "Not worth it," Roy muttered.

"My sister was always the one who could cobble together an outfit from nothing, but my talents lie with the _actual_ crafting of fashion."

"Well...good on ya," Roy shot back, less than impressed.

"Even if you'd like to keep what you've got with just some subtle improvements, I'd be more than happy to help. Why, just give me a week, and you and I will be the two most dapper gentlemen in Beacon," he added with a smile, pulling up short when Roy wheeled on him, topaz eyes wide to go with an angry growl. "I sense I have offended again," Mate said, now deeply confused.

"I'm a sheila, ya fuckwit!" Roy screamed, knuckles white around the haft of Gobsmash.

"I...see," Mate lied politely, trying to remember if there was a famous Sheila family he'd ever heard of, and if they were known for an aversion to decent clothing.

"Just 'cause I'm not built like you think I should be, or because you think I dress like a dero, doesn't mean...oh, fuckin' _brilliant_," Roy added, fiery topaz eyes narrowed as their gaze went past Mate to the pack of Beowolves galloping out of the forest they'd come from. "I'll draw aggro, watch my ass," Roy ordered, immediately thinking better of it. "Not like that, ya perv!" Roy shouted, taking off at a lope, prodigious anger drawing the Grimm forward like a moth to flame.

Mate elected to remain silent, instead retrieving and unfolding a wire frame stock, clamping it onto the butt end of Cimarrón. Next came the cane, slotted and rotated into place over the muzzle, adding over two feet to the barrel length. Mate dropped to a knee, a pair of the cane's spars deployed as a bipod as he took aim, cocking the hammer of his weapon. A deep breath was all it took to focus on his Semblance, a connection older than any other forming in the blink of an eye.

Roy remained unaware of this until one of the flanking Beowolves tumbled forward and skidded to a halt, its head, neck and a good chunk of its chest simply _gone_. The situation would have called for comment but for the far more pressing matter of nearly a dozen Beowolves bearing rapidly down. A trickle of Aura was fed into Roy's Semblance, looking for potential weapons beneath the grassy meadow and drawing out a mischievous smirk when it was found. Reaching out, a sizeable chunk of obsidian was yanked to the surface between Roy and the Grimm. Bellowing with rage, Roy teed off on the mass of volcanic glass, a thunderous hammer blow converting it into a lethal cloud of razor-sharp fragments that turned seven of the Grimm into mulch, the assemblage of mangled bodies collapsing to ash even as they fell.

Another rifle shot echoed over the meadow, Mate's aim true as his fourth Grimm of the day came up missing a large chunk of its torso. The last of the pack's growl was cut short as Gobsmash, propelled by a jet of Dust-born flame slammed its pick end into the underside of the Beowolf's jaw, erupting through the top of the skull in a shower of bone fragments.

"Quite the show, Roy," Mate said smoothly as he approached, recoupling his cane on his belt and removing the shoulder stock from his revolver. He folded the metal brace, dropping it back into the inside pocket of his long coat. "I do believe we are going to do _quite _well as a pair," he added.

"You're not my type, I swear," Roy said flatly, a candor that Mate could appreciate.

"Nor you mine, if I catch your meaning."

"As long as we're in agreement then," Roy began, before they both froze at a sound that was eerily similar to the time the mining crew had had a massive hose rupture on the air compressor used to power the pneumatic drills.

Before Roy could turn, Mate was already shoving a considerable amount of Aura into Sync, firing the last two rounds in his revolver from the hip at wildly differing angles. Both struck true, catching the large Taijitu in each head, the Dust rounds detonating halfway through their target, showering them both with black and white chunks of Grimm. The rest of the now-headless snake body flailed briefly before flaking to ash before their eyes.

"Crikey," Roy whispered in awe. "What the hell 'ave you got in that damn thing?"

He calmly flipped the cylinder open to eject the spent casings, replacing them with the aid of a nickel plated speed loader. "Little of this, little of that. Old family recipe," Mate added with a smug grin and a wink.

* * *

"That sneaky little _shit_," Coco growled, watching the fight unfold on her tablet, seated at a small side table away from the rest of the students.

"What's the matter?" Velvet asked, lifting her gaze from her tablet and leaning in to take a closer look.

"He's increased his range on me," Coco clarified, pulling up a map to show the camera currently observing Mate to be over five miles distant from her current position. "Not bad, little brother. Though your people skills are still pretty hit and miss."

"Oh?" Velvet asked, aware of the younger Adel's reputation from her time as an upperclassman at Pharos.

"Yeah, not even an hour in, and he's already managed to piss off his partner." Coco flicked her finger over the slider at the bottom of the display, backing the camera up a bit to showcase Mate and Roy's dustup.

"Oh my," Velvet said with a gasp, her eyes wide in shock.

"Yeah, you remember what he was like at Pharos, right? Flowery words can only take you so far, Mate," she said with a smug smile on her face, before she glanced to her side and truly took in the stunned look on her partners face. "What is it, Bun Bun?" she asked softly.

"I...well…"

"Come on, girl, spit it out," Coco gently prodded her.

"It's just…" she trailed off, glancing back at the frozen camera feed before meeting Coco's eyes for a moment and finding the floor almost immediately.

"What?" Coco asked, worry forming in the pit of her stomach. "You don't have a crush on my baby brother, do you? Is _that_ why you dumped me?" she asked playfully.

"That's not at all what happened, and you _know _it, Coco," Velvet pouted, her ears pinned back even as she blushed furiously.

"One, thank you for having good taste, and two, just _tell_ me."

Velvet tried to form words, her mouth opening and closing several times before she leaned in to whisper in Coco's ear, her eyes going wide immediately.

"You're joking," Coco whispered.

Velvet merely shook her head, her rabbit ears flopping slightly.

"Velvet, my dear?" Coco began, chuckling mischievously. "This is going to be a _very_ interesting year."

* * *

Mate and Roy both regarded a pair of adjacent stone pillars within the ruins, a half-sphere of polished white stone three inches in diameter resting upon each of them.

"You sure this is the right place?" Roy asked.

"Near as I can reckon."

"And we're only supposed to take one between the two of us right?"

"That _was_ the instruction," Mate replied, mirroring his partner's uncertainty. "Is this one broken in half, perhaps? It doesn't appear that there are any others. Either we're the last ones here..." he began.

"Or these aren't the relic. Relics." Roy shrugged, plucking one and then the other from their pedestals. "They're matched, that's for sure. Look at the grain." Both hemispheres fit together perfectly, once rotated into proper alignment. "Broken in half or cut from the same stone, take your pick."

"Better safe than sorry?" Mate asked.

"Looks like," Roy answered, cramming one of the objects into an already-overstuffed cargo pocket and handing the other to Mate. "Not to be a piker, but I reckon we should head back."

"Seems prudent," he said, straightening his long black coat out of habit, cutting a dashing figure, if Roy was being honest.

"Lead the way, fancy boy."

"If you insist," he replied with a smile and a perfunctory tip of the hat, bootheels clicking against the stones as they made their way out of the ruins. "You don't suppose they'll still be serving lunch by the time we get back, do you? My Semblance does take a bit out of me, if I'm being honest."

"It's what, half past noon? Might be. Never went to any hoity toity school like this before."

"Tutored?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"If ya wanna call it that, sure. Got out on my own when I was eleven, learned what I could, when I could. Huntsmen are scarce enough where I'm from; they'll gladly take an ankle biter on."

"Well, hopefully we can rectify that, you and I," Mate said hopefully.

"Yeah," Roy replied almost absently, spying a pair of figures emerging from the forest they were now headed back into. Ebon claws drummed against Roy's thigh for a moment as they both examined the pair, a girl in a flowing grey dress and cloak combo, and quite possibly the biggest boy Roy had ever laid eyes on, aside from that beefslab back in Shion. The urgency of their travel became readily apparent, the girl's flowing garb flapping behind her as they headed towards the ruins at a dead sprint.

"_Some_body's late to the party," Mate quipped before they heard a deep, echoing screech from just over the treetops. "That's not good," he added, drawing Cimmarón from its holster.

"Almost sounds like a bloody big Ravager, but you don't have 'em round these parts, right?" Roy added, gripping Gobsmash tightly.

"No, it's a..._Nevermore_," he concluded just as the enormous avian Grimm came into view, skimming over the treetops and clearly in pursuit of prey. "We need to find cover."

"No time," Roy replied, Semblance already seeking out a solution beneath the meadow grass. With a grunt of effort, a large slab of stone was tilted up, leaving a pocket of shelter beneath the edge closest to the pair. Roy and Mate both darted forward, hunkering down at either edge, where they could see the other students rapidly approaching them.

"Move your arse!" Roy shouted, holding a hand out and bracing between the stone and the ground, Mate quickly following suit. With a shout of effort, and a substantial expenditure of Aura to keep a straining shoulder joint intact, Roy managed to grab Nick Argento's wrist, spinning in place to slam him against the stone side of their makeshift fighting trench. Mate made his own retrieval look effortless, the spindly form of Luz Martinez requiring much less effort to wrangle into their bolt hole.

The Nevermore's foot claws ripped furrows into the meadow floor and then the stone Roy had ripped out of it, the shadow of the Grimm blasting by overhead before a shower of loose stone rained down upon the quartet of initiates. A shrieking caw of frustration was heard from the beast as it passed them by, nearly clipping the tops of the trees just beyond the ruins.

"Do we have time to get to the trees before 'e comes back?" Roy asked, the gigantic avian Grimm a _delightfully _new experience in a day full of them. As if it had heard the question, the Nevermore wheeled quickly about, gaining altitude before unleashing a hail of feathers at its quarry. "Shit!" Roy barked, gesturing to pull another slab of stone from the opposite side of their makeshift trench, the four initiates hearing the heavy impacts against the rock shield, several breaking through before being halted by a flickering cerulean energy field. Mate looked from his deployed but inactive cane to Luz' macuahuitl, the carved hardlight Dust crystal glowing fiercely and illuminating their ersatz bunker.

"Much appreciated, ma'am," he said with a tip of the hat. Life and death crises were hardly an excuse for forgetting one's manners, after all.

"_De nada_," she said with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"We have anything that can kill that blighter?" Roy asked. "I can't tunnel the lot of us all the way back to the cliffs, if anyone's wonderin'."

"It's already shrugged off a couple rounds, but if I can get a shot in in a vulnerable area, I can probably take it down, but it's not gonna sit around to let me aim," Nick volunteered. "_And_ I'm almost out of ammo."

"And I'm running low on Aura as well, so I can't be taking a lot of shots at it either. Not if I want to guarantee the kill," Mate added, garnering a frown from Roy.

"Well, shit." Silence reigned for a moment, broken only by the drumming of Roy's claws against the rock before Luz was addressed. "Can you force it low? Right at ground level?"

"I...yes," she replied, nodding once.

"All right then, 'ere's what we do."

* * *

As the last remaining initiates in the Emerald Forest, Roy, Mate, Luz, and Nick had become the center of attention, the three cameras capable of seeing them now being projected on the main display for the assembled upperclassmen. Most were watching with rapt attention, some finishing off the last of their refreshments as janitorial staff went about the business of clearing the tables out, and several more continuing to bet on the action.

"This is gonna give us what, nine freshmen teams?" Jaune asked, trying to remember the count.

"Correct. Assuming those four make it back in time," Weiss added.

"They'll be fine. It's not as big as our Nevermore from last year," Ruby chimed in with a hint of pride in her voice.

"What was that thing's name again?" Jaune prodded her. "Oh right, it didn't _have _one."

"Fred's a stupid name anyway," Ruby grumbled.

"Keep telling yourself that. _How _many named Grimm have Team JNPR taken down in the last year, Pyrrha? I've lost track."

"Two," she replied succinctly, fixing Ruby with a smug smirk that was the closest thing anyone would ever call a shit-eating grin on Pyrrha's face.

"Whatever," Ruby retorted oh-so-maturely.

"It's okay, Ruby. We'll still let you all hang out with us," Nora added to rub it in.

Blake shook her head slightly, smiling at the antics that she'd missed for the last couple months before her cat ears perked up, golden eyes darting about the room before she pulled out her Scroll. Quite a few other students were doing the same, opening their devices to silence alert tones of varying composition.

"Looks like the CCT's up again," Yang remarked after a moment, slipping her Scroll back into a pocket like many others.

A slack-jawed Jaune, however, was an exception to the norm, staring blankly at his Scroll as it vibrated ceaselessly in his hand.

"What's the matter, Jaune?" Ruby asked, her mouth set in a worried frown.

"There's...a _lot_ of messages," he answered, his voice unsteady.

"Since when did _you_ get popular?" Yang asked, smiling quizzically when Pyrrha and Ruby's gaze cut harshly to her. "It's a joke?"

"I mean, she's not wrong," Jaune said quietly. "This is...wow," he sighed, laying his Scroll on the table, trying to think.

Nora pulled close to look at the device, gasping at the numbers she saw, which were still climbing as the message backlog cleared. "Holy… Seventy-two voice mails? Over two thousand texts?! I mean, yeah, I sent like, five hundred of those, but still!" Nora crossed her arms, as mystified as anyone else at the sheer volume of traffic directed at Jaune.

"I'm gonna have to figure out how to tell everyone _else_ I'm alive. After all this, I guess."

"I could handle it for you," Yang offered with a mischievous smile.

"No!" was the near universal reply from the rest of the table.

* * *

"You sure you can get enough to do the job?" Roy asked, topaz eyes cutting nervously to Mate, whose own were following the Nevermore's wheeling turn above the treetops.

"We're about to find out," Mate deadpanned.

"If you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it."

"Just because it's the _only _idea doesn't mean it's a good one," Luz added from behind them.

"Just stick to the plan, an' we all walk away grinnin' like a shot fox an' hit the pub for some grog."

"I'm going to pretend I know what that meant," mumbled Nick, checking the round in his rifle for the third time.

"Probably better that way," Mate whispered back, garnering a frustrated growl from Roy.

"Get ready, Luz. I'm gonna get that blighter's attention." Roy cautioned them, before striding forward.

"I thought we already had it?" Nick replied with a raised eyebrow.

"_And_ piss 'im off," Roy shot back with a cocky smirk. A large ball of flame appeared at the business end of Gobsmash, building in size and intensity before Roy launched it in a lobbing arc at the Nevermore. The near miss appeared to singe some wing feathers, as the beast shrieked, trailing smoke for several moments as it began another dive at the group of initiates.

"Oi! Welcome to Get Fucked, population: you!" Roy bellowed before hurling another fireball at the Nevermore. Mate swore he could see hatred and anger boiling off the Faunus like heat shimmer on summer concrete. Roy's challenge was answered by another shrieking caw from the Grimm as it stooped, Luz contributing further to its irritation with blasts of fire and shards of ice.

"Shit, angle's still too high. Luz!" Roy shouted back.

"On it!" she called back, forcing a huge amount of Aura into Okichmiki, the entropy Dust crystal glowing a malevolent blood red as it converted Aura into energy, feeding it into the intricately carved hardlight Dust crystal. A gigantic planar field shimmered to life, just above the Nevermore's flight path, and Luz began to slowly will it into the ground. Already at a speed where maneuvers were difficult, and feeling little threat from the artificial wall, the Grimm skidded along the field as its course was altered. It still bore down on Roy and Mate, who had taken his place again, hand in hand with his partner.

"Say when," he stated, already beginning to Sync with Roy's powerful Semblance.

"Wait for it," Roy replied, trying to gauge speed and distance.

"Patience has never been a virtue of mine,"

"Why am I not surprised?" Roy muttered darkly. "Aaaand… NOW!"

Roy and Mate both flooded their Auras into Roy's Lithomancy, gripping hard at two slabs of granite beneath the meadow and yanking them to the surface. The two masses of stone erupted ten feet apart, rising to the height of Luz' artificial ceiling nearly twenty feet above before they stopped. Unable to maneuver, the Nevermore's head passed between them at nearly fifty miles per hour, a sickening, wet crunch heard as its wings..._didn't_. Catching both granite slabs edge on, there was precious little area to disperse the kinetic energy of the two ton bird Grimm, and so the bones in both wings shattered on impact, folding back against its body as it skidded head first through the grass.

"Luz!" Roy shouted once more, ducking to the side along with Mate as a flare of purplish black energy enveloped her macuahuitl. With a shriek of effort, she swung it in a wide, horizontal arc, Nick Argento balanced precariously upon its edge. She launched him at the Grimm, its beak wide in a thunderous scream of pain before it was cut short by the five foot haft of Timberfang wedging it open.

"Lunch time!" Nick cheerily announced before he pulled the trigger, the report of the heavy caliber rifle muffled by the soft throat tissue it was jammed against. The twenty millimeter armor piercing slug erupted through the top of the Nevermore's skull, which then crashed to the ground and lolled to the side. Nick almost lost his grip, but soon wrenched his weapon free as the Grimm began to dissipate into smoky ash on the wind.

Nick breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Glad I wasn't actually the lunch," he said, looking back to his fellows with a smile that evaporated when he spotted his partner. The tip of Luz' weapon was on the ground, its lanky wielder leaning heavily upon the haft, the death grip of both hands the only thing keeping her quivering frame standing, it seemed. "Luz!" he shouted in alarm, bolting to her side.

"I'll be alright," she said unsteadily. "That much dust usage can be taxing. I'll be better in a moment," she added, pushing herself to her full height with only the barest quiver of her arms.

"You sure, mate?" Roy asked skeptically, getting only a nod in return.

"All right, let me get up the hill and find us a relic, then. What?" Nick asked of the other two, seeing the apprehensive look they shared.

"Give it to 'im," Roy said after a moment.

"Are you sure? If we end up with only half a relic…" Mate trailed off, the implications clear.

"They both walked the walk, Mate. 'sides, we don't know one way or the other. And if this Ozpin git is gonna disqualify anyone who did everything 'e asked because of some stupid _rock_, he can take that fancy diploma and cram it straight up 'is date," Roy pronounced with grim finality.

Mate regarded his partner for a moment, impressed that Roy held a presence that transcended physical height. "Well, that is a rare treat," he said cryptically before digging into his pocket for the stone and tossing it to Nick. "Worst comes to worst, there's always next year, I suppose," Mate added with a rakish smile.

"Thanks," Nick said simply.

"Don't mention it. Now, I do believe I've worked up quite the appetite," Mate added, gesturing back towards Beacon with a flourish of his hand. "Dinner awaits, lady and gentlemen.

"Yeah, I'm a fair bit knackered myself," Roy replied with a deep sigh, too tired to correct him. "Soon as Luz is ready to walk, we can get going. No one left behind."

"Agreed," Nick responded.

"Agreed," Mate echoed. "Though I _would _ask that you not try and bring the rest of the Grimm in the forest down on us for some fun. I assume you do that intentionally?" he asked of his partner's obvious battle rage.

"Yeah," Roy replied, chagrined. "I'm used to fightin' with a lot of squishies around. Keeps 'em safe, and I don't 'ave to go chasing Grimm 'round the village all day."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Are we ready?" Mate asked, getting a chorus of nods in reply. "After you, partner," he added, from misguided chivalry or some other yielding of authority, Roy couldn't tell.

* * *

A raucous cheer broke out amongst the student body at the Nevermore's demise, especially amongst the minority that had taken 'kill' over 'evade' in betting circles, quite a bit of lien now making its way to the Amundsen Orphanage as a result of student pessimism. Thom Blackwell grinned smugly, having set the odds to properly draw the suckers in.

"Still not as awesome as decapitating it," Ruby grumbled irritably.

"I know, Ruby. You and your team were awesome, I promise," Jaune reassured her with a pat on the shoulder.

"Hell yeah, we were," Yang concurred, getting a high five from Nora.

"I'm just glad we got everyone through without any major injuries," Pyrrha added before her head cocked to the side at the two gentlemen in uniform that had just entered the room.

Jaune followed her gaze and was similarly struck with curiosity as Velvet was speaking to them and pointed in their direction. "What are the police doing here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Yang?" Ruby immediately asked, her rising inflection conveying both suspicion and disappointment.

"What? I didn't do anything!" she protested, getting seven sets of disbelieving eyes looking back at her. Well, _six_, in truth; Nora was simply trying to look as innocent as everyone else whilst racking her own brain for antics she hadn't yet been asked about.

* * *

Mate Adel brushed the last of the dust from his long coat with his hand, trying to put his best foot forward as he waited backstage with the rest of the new freshmen. Initiation had been eventful, but he was hardly a young man averse to a little adventure now and then.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," Coco said with a sly smirk as she stepped out from behind a stage curtain, Velvet following closely after.

"Why, dear sister, you sound actually happy to see me. If you get any _more _affectionate, I might positively swoon," he said with a playful tone. "And hello again, Miss Scarlatina. It's been a good while, hasn't it?" he asked, favoring Coco's partner with the barest hint of a hat tip.

"Hello, Mate. How have you been?" she said with a slight smile.

"I am _rolling_, Velvet," he said jocularly, giving her a slight bow at the waist.

"Easy there, Mate. You've got more than enough on your plate without chasing after my partner."

"Of this I am well aware, Coco."

"So anyway, before you get it into that big head of yours that I actually _care_, I'm not here just for you," Coco said with a haughty smile on her face.

"Perish the thought," Mate replied dryly.

"Have you seen Velvet's sister around? She passed initiation with you," Coco clarified.

"Truly? I didn't know you _had _a sister. Well, that's good news, I suppose. I didn't get a good look at everyone, but I can't say as I saw her. Does she have a tail, perhaps? Easily concealed by clothing?"

"No. No tail," Velvet answered softly, doing her level best to keep a straight face.

"Then unfortunately, no, I didn't recognize her. The only Faunus I've seen thus far has been my partner. A rather cantankerous gentleman, if I do say so myself."

"We saw," Coco replied, grinning like the proverbial cat that ate the equally proverbial canary.

"Yes. Most unpleasant, but I believe we've moved past it. Though perhaps you could enlighten me, dear sister. We don't frequent the same social circles, you and I, after all. Have you ever heard of a Roy Sheila?" he asked, cutting his eyes briefly to Velvet when she snorted softly before quickly covering her mouth. "Apparently the name carries some weight that I've not been made aware of," he added, pale green eyes darting about nervously.

Mate could only blink silently as Velvet Scarlatina burst into shrieking, giggling laughter, pausing every now and then to look at him before losing it once more. Slowly, Velvet ambled away, wiping tears from her eyes before disappearing behind the curtains, her cackling laughter echoing through the backstage area.

"This is the strangest day I've had in a dog's age, Coco," Mate admitted quietly as he watched her go.

"You'll figure it out," she reassured her brother with a knowing smile and an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "Now go on, they're about to start. And don't forget to call Mom and Dad afterwards!" she called back over her shoulder as she walked away.

* * *

"Seriously, bro, it's not a big deal!" Sun Wukong said with his trademark goofy smile occupying a large portion of Jaune's Scroll screen.

"But you're missing part of an ear!" Jaune countered, still dumbfounded that Sun could be so nonchalant about nearly dying.

"Scars are just tattoos with better stories, man. Gives you that tough guy image the girls _love_. Speaking of, is Blake around?" he asked with a hopeful look.

"Sorry, no. Vale PD pulled them aside before the ceremony started, something about victim impact statements from the Breach?" Jaune replied, having only gotten the briefest explanation from Ruby before she was called to join her teammates. "I'll tell her you said hi, man. All of them."

"Thanks, Jaune. Hey, are you guys doing this student mentorship thing at Beacon like we are? We got a pretty good team paired up with us, I think."

"Yeah, we are. Doubt we're getting tapped though. We're only second year students. Those guys are lucky to have Team SSSN. Really."

"Ha! Tell me something I don't know!" Sun shot back with self-assured confidence. "Well, hey, man, it's good to hear from you, but we've got an early start in the morning."

"Oh, crap, I forgot about the time difference."

"It's okay," Sun replied with a shrug.

"Still, thanks. For everything. Even if it didn't work out like we would've wanted."

"You guys would've done the same for us. I know you would."

"I owe you one," Jaune added, voice dropping into more serious tones.

"I know," Sun replied with a cocky smirk. "Pay me back next time you see us, okay?"

"You've got it, Sun. Make sure that happens, all right?"

"Oh, you haven't seen the last of me, count on it. G'night, man," Sun concluded, stifling a yawn.

"Good night, Sun."

Jaune closed the video call, stepping back into the theater and taking his seat next to Pyrrha again.

"What'd I miss? We get a team to babysit?"

"Not yet, no. CBLT, RAIN, NOIR, SAND; all third and fourth year teams."

"Good. I know it sounds selfish, but I don't know that we need that kind of distraction this year," Jaune said.

"Aww, I want someone to teach the Way of the Pancake!" Nora said dejectedly.

"_Still_ not a secret society, Nora," Ren reminded her with a gentle smile.

"Well, it wouldn't be a _secret_ society if everyone _knew _about it, now would it?"

"She's got you there, Ren," Jaune interjected, giving a beaming Nora a wink for good measure.

"And our final team," Ozpin began, "To be mentored by Vytal Festival Tournament silver medalists Team JNPR," he added, fixing a stunned Jaune Arc in place with a wry smile. The large display shifted one final time to display the portraits of Roy, Mate, Luz and Nick. "Mate Adel, Nicholas Argento, Luz Martinez-Rios, and Corduroy Scarlatina. You retrieved the alabaster hemispheres, and from this day forward, will be known as Team CMLN, led by...Corduroy Scarlatina."

Roy's brown skin somehow managed to pale as the news sunk in. Beside her, Mate blinked, his rheumy, pale green eyes gazing into the middle distance.

"I suppose that _does_ explain quite a bit," he mumbled.

"Congratulations to you all, and the best of wishes for the coming year."

* * *

**AN:**

**-Team CFVN: Caffeine**

**-Team CMLN: Chameleon**

**Team CMLN is a fully fleshed out team I was originally going to do a standalone, companion fic to Summer School with. Rather than divide my efforts, being a little sparse on ideas on what to do with it, and unsure how to pace the publishing so as to not spoil one story with the other, I've decided to roll them into the main story. They'll be around, and interacting with the canon cast from time to time, as evidenced by being JNPR's mentees. CMLN, like any good RWBY team, has a common theme with their literary allusions; five internet points to the first person to point them out in the reviews!**

**Regarding Luz' dust usage; the best analogy is that she's basically casting from HP.**


	20. Opening Moves

**Chapter 20**

**Opening Moves**

Jaune set his lunch tray onto the large table between Pyrrha and Nora's typical seat, unceremoniously plopping his butt into his own as the rest of the two sister teams took their places. Everyone was mentally drained from the first morning's classes, though to varying degrees. Weiss was wearing a haughty smile, the group having just left her favorite professor's classroom, while even Nora and Ruby looked half-dead.

"I want Professor Port back," Yang moaned, stabbing at her grilled chicken with a fork.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I agree, Yang," Jaune echoed, flipping his school uniform tie over his shoulder before breaking soda crackers into his soup.

"I don't see what the problem is," Weiss replied, spearing a piece of steamed broccoli on her fork. "Professor Peach is thorough and precise in her instruction. While I mourn Port, you can't argue that this isn't an improvement."

"Yeah, well at least you could fall asleep in Port's class. Peach's voice ish like nailsh on a chalkboard!" Nora countered, gnawing on a chicken leg.

"That's not her fault, Nora," Pyrrha reminded her, her lips latching onto the straw connected to her high protein pineapple smoothie.

"Yeah, well it's still a downgrade," Ruby grumbled, gnawing on a cookie.

"At least I know someone _else_ did their summer reading," Weiss needled her partner while glancing at Jaune.

"Hey, I only knew that about Cacklers because I've actually _fought _them. It was pure luck. I really need to catch up on that."

"We can stop by the library after class, Jaune," Pyrrha said warmly.

"Yeah, I guess. Hopefully they'll have a copy...available?" he trailed off, his Scroll going off at the same time as Ruby's. "Huh. From...combat arts prof at Beacon dot ACA. Says...all teams scheduled for sparring class at two need to show up in full gear. Guess that's us. You too, right Ruby?"

"Looks like it," she replied with a shrug. "Goodwitch probably wants to inspect our combat gear before the new year starts."

"I hope she doesn't want everything spit and polished, I still haven't repainted my shield," Jaune said, popping a chicken nugget into his mouth before tossing one into Ruby's open mouth from across the table.

"I bet that's not all he wants to feed you," Yang teased, getting a grape bounced off her head from her little sister. "Worth it," she said with a shrug.

"We are _not_ doing this again!" Weiss shrieked in protest. "It took me three _hours _to get that junk out of my hair!"

"Yeah, come on, guys," Jaune chided the sisters.

"_You_ just don't wanna lose again," Ruby countered, sticking her tongue out like the mature nearly-sixteen-year-old she was.

"Keep telling yourself that, Ruby," Nora replied, holding up a high five for Jaune to complete.

"There you are, Blondie!" came an energetic, unfamiliar voice before a weight crashed down on Jaune from behind. Two slender arms squeezed down on him in an enthusiastic hug, even as the rest of the table jumped at the sudden intrusion. Jaune turned his head to identify his new friend, coming eye to eye with a grinning Neon Katt. His nose was poking into the heart tattooed below her left eye before she leaned back a bit, keeping her arms draped around his neck..

"Oh hey, Neon. Almost didn't recognize you Sunday," Jaune said, cutting his eyes up to see her hair, the short ginger coif done up in tastefully-gelled spikes most would term 'engineered messy'.

"Yeahhhh, only got to grow my hair back a couple months ago. Drug allergies are a _total_ drag," she said, rolling her eyes for emphasis.

"But you're good to go now, right? Coco said something about your legs yesterday."

"Yeah, I'd forgotten to reinstall some of the gaskets, got some mud in there. Got 'em all cleaned out now, can't _wait _for combat class!" she added, clicking her heels together with a metallic _clang_, her tail flicking excitedly behind her.

"That's good to hear," Jaune replied with a smile. "Umm, not to be rude, but what's this for?" he asked, nodding to the embrace, looking past it briefly to see Pyrrha's eye twitching a bit, matching the wooden smile on her face.

"Well, I…" she began before a familiar, but unwelcome, voice rang out from behind them.

"Hey now, little kitten, I wouldn't touch that. You don't know where it's been," Cardin Winchester mocked, a smirk plastered smugly on his face. "You don't want to catch terminal dorkinoma."

"What the hell do you want, you…" Yang began angrily.

"Schmoopsie-poo!" Neon squeaked in delight, hopping up and wrapping her arms around Cardin's neck, along with her legs around his hips. She immediately planted a _very_ affectionate, passionate kiss on his lips, her content humming the only sound in the vicinity of the JNPR/RWBY table. To his credit, Cardin maintained his balance, and his grip on two lunch trays with his prosthetic left hand, his right palming Neon's backside with blatant familiarity. She transitioned from a hum to a purring moan quickly enough, her tail lashing excitedly before breaking the kiss with a salacious grin.

"Later, stud," she said quietly, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she dropped back to her feet. "And to answer your question, I just wanted to thank you for being Jauney-on-the-spot last year. You were _literally_ a life saver."

"Well, you're welcome, I guess. I'm just glad I was able to do what I could," Jaune said with a shrug.

"Yeah, same here, man. You're all right for a total dork," Cardin added helpfully.

"Thanks?" Jaune asked, only slightly confused rather than dumbstruck like the rest of the table.

"Hey, kitten, I'm gonna find us a table. Don't take too long, okay?" Cardin said in probably the warmest tone any of them had ever heard from the boy.

"You bet, sugardoll," She replied as he strode off to the other side of the dining hall. "So yeah, Jauney, you're my hero!" she said exuberantly, capping it off with a cheerful smooch of Jaune's cheek. Stepping back between and behind Jaune and Nora, Neon regarded the slight blush on his cheeks with a sense of accomplishment before she took in the stunned mood of the rest of the table. "What?" she asked, cocking her head quizzically.

"_You're..._dating _him_," Yang said, pointing first to her and then the distant Cardin.

"Yeahhhhh?" she replied, still not seeing the disconnect.

"The biggest racist bully in Beacon?" Weiss clarified, Ruby's mouth still trying to form words.

"Reformed," Neon shot back coolly, a slight edge in her voice now to match the slight narrowing of her eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" Blake asked, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Yup!" she said, her smile returning.

"And if he slips up? Backslides? What happens if..._when_ he yanks on your tail for fun?" Blake continued, not willing to let a fellow Faunus suffer if she could help it.

Neon chuckled softly, a mischievous grin blooming on her lips. "Ohhh, Blake. BlakeBlakeBlakeBlakeBlake. Can I call you Blake?" she asked as an afterthought, getting an owlish blink in response before Neon leaned across the table to whisper in her cat ear. "_When_ he yanks on my tail, then I just scream 'harder, Daddy'. _Rrrreally _gets him going." she finished with a sultry purr.

The fact that Blake was now the palest face at the table wasn't lost on anyone as Neon twirled in place briefly. "Toodles, guys!" she chirped before trotting off to find her boyfriend, her glossy white prosthetics thudding softly on the polished wood floors.

"Blake?" Ruby asked hesitantly.

"I did _not_ need to know that," she whispered, her face fixed in a thousand yard stare.

"Well, that was a thing," Yang stated the obvious.

"For once I agree with you," Weiss added.

"Perhaps she'll keep him occupied enough to not be a problem?" Pyrrha said hopefully, getting noncommittal shrugs from most of the table.

"Was she not wearing panties?" Nora asked.

"I wasn't looking," Jaune and Ren said simultaneously, finding their food infinitely fascinating all of a sudden.

* * *

The Beacon combat arena was a familiar sight to nearly everyone present, being that this was a second-year class, but there was still a soft buzz of excitement in the air. Their first full day of school was coming to a close, with but one class left to complete.

Jaune strode through the door confidently, though he did have to pivot his torso slightly to avoid bumping into another student obliviously conversing with a newly-remet friend with his new armor, and cast his gaze about. The rest of his team was already here, with an open spot next to his partner, his own battle gear taking the longest to change into of the four members of JNPR. He offered casual waves to a few of the other students who gave him token greetings before returning to their conversations, making his way down to his spot. Taking his seat, he dropped his gauntlets on the desk in front of him and adjusted Crocea Corax to be as comfortable as possible in that position before turning to Pyrrha beside him.

"Hey, Pyrrha," he said, his voice bright and sunny, offering his right forearm up, a gesture she accepted eagerly, pressing the inside of her wrist to his, their matching tattoos superimposed for a long moment before she pulled back with a smile.

"Hello, Jaune!" she replied warmly, a greeting like she hadn't seen him a mere ten minutes ago.

"Aww, you guys are ridiculously sweet together," they heard from over their shoulder. "When's the wedding?" Yang asked them, getting Pyrrha blushing hard enough to rival her tresses.

"I know your heart's set on it, but you're going to have to fight Ren for the Best Man spot," Jaune retorted quickly enough to snap Yang's head back. "Ruby does say you're her favorite _brother_, after all."

Her facial reaction never registered with Jaune, as he was instead paffed in the face with a long, undulating cat tail, covered in alternating stripes of light blue and brilliant purple fur, a pair of small, colorful bangles worn near the end. "Sorry," he heard before he turned to his right and saw the brightly-dressed Faunus it was attached to, thankful he was tall enough that even while seated, her scandalously short magenta skirt was still below eye level for him. Her short hair was striped identically, blue and purple running front to back over her scalp, her halter top matching the skirt. A pair of nunchaku dangled from a small hook on her beltline, the deceptively lethal weapon swaying slightly with her movements.

"Oh, hey, Neon." Jaune greeted her pleasantly. "Wait, are we in the wrong class? We're only second years," he asked, slightly worried now.

"Naw, man, we've got remedial training because we're a reconstituted team," her partner said as he took the seat to Jaune's immediate right as Neon was waving excitedly across the seating area to another student. "Team tactics are a big part of second year combat training," he added in his smooth voice, offering Coco Adel and Velvet Scarlatina a fist bump in their seats behind him, Team CFVN already settling into a warm camaraderie it seemed.

"Hey, Flynt. Nice tie," he said with a smirk.

"I _know_, right?" Neon Katt said, her hair and fur matching the lone spot of color in Flynt Coal's stylish ensemble.

"Hey, Pyrrha?" Jaune asked innocently.

"I'm not dying my hair, Jaune," she immediately replied, a playful smirk on her lips.

"Neither are you, Nora," Ren added preemptively.

"Ehh, green wouldn't go with my eyes. Buuuuut…"

"And neither am _I_," he said, concluding his partner's train of thought.

"Don't need to. You've already got the pink and black thing going on," Nora reminded him. "One more reason we were _meant_ to be together-together!"

"I…" Ren began.

"She's got a point, Ren," Jaune thoughtfully interjected.

"As I was saying, Nora, before I was interrupted, I don't _need_ any more reasons."

"Oh?" Nora queried.

"I don't need _any_ reasons beyond the fact that you're the most wonderful person in my life, Nora," he stated simply, the slightest hint of a smile curling his lips. That Nora went as pink as her combat skirt at her boyfriend's understated praise wasn't missed by anyone paying attention to the exchange, most of the team behind them gasping in delight.

"Pay up, Yang," Weiss huffed with a weapons-grade smile, her delicate hand extended through Blake's sightline to her ever present book, earning her an annoyedly raised eyebrow, Blake's ears twitching slightly in irritation.

"Ugh, _fine_," Yang groused, fishing in her cleavage for a slightly damp fifty lien card and handing it over to Weiss who gingerly pinched it between thumb and forefinger before it was dropped onto her desk with a barely suppressed gag and a disgusted sneer on her face.

"Did I miss something?" Jaune queried.

"Yeah, I bet Weiss that a certain couple would get together before those two," Yang admitted sheepishly. "I'm not gonna say _who_, so don't ask," she added with a mischievous glint in her lilac eyes.

"And _I _knew that one half of that couple was a dunce who couldn't take a hint if their _life _depended on it," Weiss pronounced imperiously.

"Don't you think that's a little _mean_, Weiss?" Pyrrha asked, a dark edge to her voice.

Weiss immediately balked at the subtext there, her smile vanishing like smoke on the wind. "I still won," she muttered through her pout.

"And you can use that to buy Team RWBY cookies and ice cream to celebrate our first day of school!" Ruby excitedly piped up next to her.

"No."

"Awwww."

Before anyone else could continue the conversation, a metallic hammering sound rang out across the arena at two p.m. sharp. The class turned as one to the lectern, the figure there knocking firmly twice more on its surface with only a white-gloved hand, yet the sound was akin to a battering ram hammering at the gates of Vale itself.

"Aww, _hell_ no," Flynt muttered in disbelieving dread next to Jaune.

Those words could only fill anyone who heard them with apprehension, as the person at Glynda Goodwitch's podium was decidedly _not_ Glynda Goodwitch. Instead stood a man, nearly seven feet tall and ramrod straight, garbed in an impeccable Atlesian Army dress uniform. Greys and whites were crowned by a black beret perched on his head bearing a small unit insignia on the leading edge. A myriad of scars were a topographical map of pain and battle, including the shorn scalp visible around the beret. Several pips of bright steel were visible against his weathered skin above the eyebrows, his face tanned from long hours outdoors. Crow's feet bled into the deep amber of his left eye, his right replaced with a military-grade prosthetic, the irised lens glowing with a pale blue light. The soldier's broad shoulders paired well with his height, and the aura of cool, confident power he gave off was both intimidating and inspiring. His voice, a low, booming baritone honed through years of military life, did nothing but enhance this image, even with the slightly synthetic twinge the PA system provided.

"Good afternoon, class. My name is Colonel…" he hesitated briefly, correcting himself after a moment. "Apologies, old habits. _Professor_ Obsidian Shaw. As some of you may already know, and the rest have no doubt deduced, I am _not_ Professor Goodwitch," he deadpanned, getting a small chorus of chuckles from the class. "Professor Goodwitch will not be teaching at Beacon Academy for the foreseeable future, as she is currently serving as interim Headmistress of Haven Academy following the untimely death of Headmaster Lionheart. As a personal favor to Headmaster Ozpin, General Ironwood has seen fit to assign me to the Beacon staff until replacements can be found. As such, I will be serving as the interim Professor of Combat Arts until the new faculty are in place," he concluded.

"Now, I know most of you will be accustomed to Professor Goodwitch's methods of instruction, and thus I will be forgiving, for a short while, of the ground rules I will be giving you, and hopefully we can transition… _MISS SCHNEE!_" his voice suddenly blasted across the classroom, the girl in question flinching back from where she had been whispering in Ruby's ear as if she'd been slapped.

"Sir?" she spoke up nervously, eyes wide in fear.

"Do you have something you wish to share with the rest of the class?" he asked with the precise amount of scorn that conveyed that he already knew the answer.

"No, sir," Weiss replied, cowed.

"A question, perhaps?"

"No, sir," She repeated, just audible enough to be heard, her head bowed low.

"Then kindly do yourself _and_ your classmates a favor and do not deprive anyone of instruction by trying to talk over what I have to tell you," Shaw chided.

"Yes, sir," Weiss said with a little more backbone, her classroom habits from her time learning under her sister Winter returning to her with ease.

"As I was saying, there are a few standard procedures I will be implementing for the coming semester. First, for the few of you who either didn't check, or _ignored_ their Scrollmail," He began, addressing the handful of students still in their Beacon uniforms, "you _will_ show up to class combat ready every day. I've already checked the schedules of every student in here, and none of you have a class ending later than noon, leaving more than sufficient time for everyone to be in full battle gear when you walk through that door. You're going to be wearing your kit for weeks at a time in the field, so you'd best get used to it. I also refuse to waste time sending you out of class to get ready, and miss out on training time in the process. And yes, I _could_ formulate a schedule beforehand, but I like to adapt and change my student matches on the fly to address any lessons that need reinforcement," he concluded, several raised hands lowering as he made each point.

"Secondly, as we do not have a Vytal Festival tournament this year, we will be altering the base rules for all spars. There will be no ring out, as such a thing doesn't exist in the real world, especially not when fighting the creatures of Grimm. Unless otherwise specified, there are no restrictions on weapons, Dust or other equipment. Defeat will, unless otherwise specified, be at ten percent of base Aura levels. If I feel that a student would be injured beyond Aura break through continued combat before reaching that threshold, I will sound the buzzer and call the match. If _you_ feel that those conditions exist, you may also call 'endex' to end the match, regardless of which side you're on. If you do so, be prepared to defend your decision to me. I have a keen eye, but there may be things about you or your opponent not immediately visible, so I am more than willing to listen. If you continue to fight past the buzzer, there will be..._consequences_," Professor Shaw added ominously.

"All matches will be recorded with the new media suite I've had installed in the arena. Twenty-seven cameras capturing every angle possible, including five overheads and four drone cams. These recordings will be available for study, as well as being part of your classwork. Each of you will be critiquing designated matches, answering questions given by me in regards to errant strikes, points of improvement, and missed opportunities," he clarified, Velvet's ears perked excitedly behind Neon at the sheer amount of visual information she'd be able to feed into Anesidora and her own photographic memory.

"All matches will be graded according to student performance, weighted for competency. Thusly, you will not necessarily be fighting against your current level of ability in every match. Maximum grade for victory will be a full hundred, while the best the losing side can attain is a ninety."

"Finally, there is but one principle that prevails in this classroom. _Honesty_," he said, pausing for effect. "You will give an honest effort in everything you do, whether it is your classwork, homework, special projects, or down on the arena floor. You will be honest with each other in feedback when it is asked for. You will be honest with your_self_, and accept criticism as a tool for self-improvement. We check our egos at the door, ladies and gentlemen. You will ask honest questions. If you do not understand a concept, you will ask for clarification. There is no such thing as a stupid question. There is merely knowledge and the lack thereof, only _one_ of which can get you killed. Now, do I have any questions?" he asked, yielding the floor to the largely stunned class.

"I will admit that this is a lot to take in, but you'll live. I'll see to it. Isn't that right, Mr. Coal?" Shaw asked with a mischievous grin.

"Yes, sir." he replied with a bit of swagger, offering a two fingered salute from the brim of his hat and a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Now then, we'll start off the school year with inventory matches. I've watched all available recordings of each of your spars last year, as well as tournament fights for those of you who had them, and have paired you up accordingly. You'll all have matches running through the end of this week, at which point I will determine the initial class rankings, which will be updated biweekly. If you disagree with your ranking, or indeed have any question or concern you do not wish to bring up in front of your peers, my office door is always open. I will be there from zero seven to eighteen hundred hours, outside of classroom hours of course," he added, several students scribbling that into their notebooks or typing it into their scroll.

"All right, on to the fun part of class. First match of the day. Mister Arc," he said, reading from the large scroll panel built into the lectern.

"Must be working up from the bottom," Jaune grumbled in resignation.

Jaune slipped on his gauntlets, moving to rise before he froze halfway out of his seat.

"Versus Miss Rose," Shaw announced, dropping the low murmur of the class to dead silence. Jaune chanced a glance over his left shoulder, seeing that Ruby _looked_ exactly like he _felt_, while Weiss had the barest smirk of amusement at the matchup. Closer in, he could see Pyrrha was intrigued more than anything, but did not seem to be regarding him like a mother hen for once. Swinging his gaze back to the lectern, he saw Shaw with his head cocked slightly, impatient at the delay.

"Umm, sir?" Jaune began hesitantly.

"You're questioning the matchup," Shaw stated more than asked.

"Kind of..._maybe_?" he answered uncertainly.

"Then I'll break it down potato level for you."

"Sir?"

"So simple that even a _potato_ could understand," the Professor clarified, garnering a short burst of laughter from the rest of the class.

"Ah."

"You're both team leaders, thus central to the success of your respective teams, correct?"

"I guess so," Jaune conceded.

"Both RWBY and JNPR have excellent academic and combat records."

"With you so far."

"_And_ you were the two highest placed Beacon teams in the last Vytal Festival tournament."

"Oh," Jaune said, at last understanding. He'd have to forgive Pyrrha for inadvertently setting him up like this, but then he remembered she was responsible for a lot of his training, and Jaune resolved to try regardless. Thusly, he stepped into the aisle and made his way to the arena floor, Ruby following close on his heels. Once they cleared the gap in the physical wall, a hardlight Dust barrier flickered up behind them, reaching vertically for twenty feet before it curved inward to form a protective dome over the arena floor.

"Ready to get your butt whipped, Vomit Boy?" Ruby called out cheerfully from her starting position, having bolted there in a shower of rose petals.

"Bring it, Crater Face," Jaune answered back with a smile from his own mark, twenty yards away.

* * *

"Well, at least he shouldn't feel _too_ bad about this one," Yang said mirthfully as soon as the pair was out of earshot.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" Pyrrha asked darkly, looking over her shoulder with an eyebrow cocked.

"I mean, you know, when Ruby beats him like a drum. Let's be honest here…" she replied, wary of Pyrrha's dangerous tone.

"Yes. _Let's_," she concurred, a predatory grin showing just how much she intended to punish Yang during their next spar.

"Yang?" Blake chimed in, trying to calm her partner down before they had the second fight of the school year right there in the stands.

"What?!" she barked back in irritation. "You _seriously _think the Knight of Dorkshire there can take my little sister?" she spluttered, wasting the premiere of a new nickname in her anger.

"Well…you don't have to be so _mean_ about it," she demurred, trying to stay neutral, but managing to irk both sides of the argument instead.

"_Fine_. P-money, put your lien where your mouth is," Yang replied irritably. "A ten spot says Vomit Boy's on his back in under sixty seconds," she clarified, extending her hand. Pyrrha eagerly accepted it, shaking it firmly before another voice cut in, one they weren't expecting in the slightest.

"Fifty," Weiss Schnee stated confidently.

"And I thought _I_ was the one who doubted him," Yang fired back with a little swagger in her voice now that she wasn't the sole focus of Pyrrha's ire.

"_Lien_," she clarified.

This brought the conversation to a standstill for several moments, Yang's mouth agape in astonishment. "I thought you were all 'betting on fights is so barbaric'?" she quoted, twinging her voice up an octave to mock her oftimes cantankerous teammate. "So what gives? You don't believe in your partner?" she added, as loaded a question as any.

"It's simple, you _hooligan_. If you lose, it's another fifty lien out of your bar fund, thus leaving you less excuse to stay away from your studies. You _win_? You get this note back, and _I_ don't have to spend Gods know _how_ long decontaminating a class three biohazard. I win either way," Weiss concluded with a smug grin.

"Deal! Easy money," Yang replied, her grin growing wider.

"Quiet, you guys, they're about to start," Blake cut in, before her amber eyes flicked wide as she saw the _far _too familiar stance Jaune had adopted. She knew he'd trained over the summer, but that… _There's no way…_ she thought, bewildered and a little frightened of just _who_ she'd been reminded of.

* * *

"Fighters ready?" Shaw asked over the lone speaker still inside the protective field.

"Locked aaaaand loaded!" Ruby shouted enthusiastically, spinning Crescent Rose into its fully extended scythe form, her chosen rifle magazine already loaded into place. She dropped the head of her scythe low and behind her, angling the spiked pommel upwards before she racked the charging handle to chamber a round.

Jaune took a moment to contemplate what her options were to begin combat, and remembered just how quickly she could move to close or open range. Knowing her tactics and paying attention to everyone's spars last year had given him some insight, but he needed to know what she was committed to before he reacted. Thus, he simply reached down with his left hand, grasping the sheath of Crocea Corax at the mouth and tilting it nearly horizontal as his gauntleted right closed firmly on the hilt. His left foot stepped forward, and he dropped his weight lower, gaining a decent bend at the knees, and he leaned forward slightly on the wider base this stance provided. Taking a deep breath and letting it slowly go, the thumb of his left hand extended, pushing against the curved crossguard of his sword to break it free an inch and making sure it hadn't bound from rust or frost, the blue Tigan braid swinging slightly with the movement, twirling the handful of black feathers woven into it.

"Ready," Jaune said firmly, deep blue eyes narrowing slightly as he awaited what was to be the first, and hopefully not _last_, attack from his opponent.

"On the buzzer!" came Shaw's booming voice over the PA, followed by a piercing klaxon blast.

Without a moment of hesitation, Ruby dashed forward, firing off her first round of ammunition with a burst of dark purple smoke. The recoil management system in the rifle was set to augment rather than dampen the energy, and thus the blast of gravity dust further accelerated her to a frankly ludicrous speed, nearly catching Jaune at the knees as he desperately dove forward to avoid the strike. Jaune sprung quickly to his feet, for him at least, pivoting back to find a dust-propelled Ruby already headed back towards him, weapon held for an overhead slash that came down like a ton of bricks.

Knowing he couldn't brace against it, Jaune detached his sheath from its baldric, unsheathing the perforated blade for two thirds of its length before using it and the collapsed shield like a staff, raising his arms and deflecting Ruby's attack to his left side. The point of Crescent Rose embedded itself four inches into the arena floor, of little concern to a Huntress prodigy such as herself.

What _was_ concerning to her was the blunt end of Jaune's scabbard, as he took two quick, short steps toward her before swinging it, using his grip on the hilt of his sword to add leverage to the strike which she easily ducked, in spite of her surprise at the tactic. She was also nearly caught by an incoming snap kick to the gut that she only evaded through raw reflex and flexibility before opening up the distance again with a rifle blast.

Ruby halted her momentum with another round of gravity dust, quickly dropping the magazine and inserting a fresh one from her belt pouch before cycling the bolt, chambering a far more conventional ammunition and planting the point of her blade in the floor again. Jaune saw the large caliber muzzle come to bear on his position, and he quickly drew his sword completely free of its scabbard before unfolding it into its heater shield form. The first impact of bullet on shield came as he willed his feet into motion, charging at his opponent at the pace and agility of a drunken hippo, closing the distance far slower than he knew her capable of expanding it. The third round caught him in the shin, glancing off the ballistic weave underlying his boot, the fifth grazing his temple and leaving behind a burning sensation as Jaune's aura dipped slightly and began to work at healing the wound. Rounds six and seven were nearly simultaneous impacts on his shield again, scrubbing off flecks of paint and the barest fraction of the large knight's speed.

The eighth and final round in the magazine was another gravity dust round, which Ruby used to propel herself away again, planting her feet against the hardlight barrier before launching herself forward with the aid of her semblance. A shower of rose petals trailed behind her before she translated that momentum into a whirling vertical spin that could bisect an Ursa Major with its ferocity.

Angling his shield slightly less than vertically, Jaune deflected the first three impacts, sparks flying from the speed at which Crescent Rose spun against his defenses. Each of these hits forced his guard lower a few inches, his shield arm rotating at the shoulder and pivoting the top edge of his shield forward until the fourth hit came not on the face of the shield but instead just behind it. Jaune's eyes went wide as Ruby's scythe broke through his defense, the top edge narrowly missing his nose as she again drove the point of her blade into the arena floor, taking his shield, arm and torso to the ground along with it. For a brief moment, they both contemplated their next moves, Ruby electing to reload and fire a dust round into Jaune's breastplate at point blank range, taking a sizable chunk out of his aura. Jaune's response was, much like his very presence at Beacon, _unexpected_.

Jaune brought his sword around point-first, slamming it back into its scabbard before lifting both weapons up off the ground. The inner curvature of Crescent Rose's blade was stuck against the back of Jaune's shield, the cutting edge barely managing to graze his armored forearm. Ruby's eyes grew wide as she attempted to extricate her weapon, finding that the large, curved crossguard of Crocea Corax had trapped the shaft of her baby firmly against the top edge of the heater shield. Jaune had reduced a free-wheeling melee into a tug-of-war that she was ill-equipped to win, and they both knew it. Ruby attempted to yank and lever her way out of the stalemate, while Jaune was trying to pull her close enough to lay into the girl with an armored boot, both of his arms involved in keeping her greatest asset bound in place. But for the dire combat situation, Ruby's grunts of effort might even have been considered cute. She wasn't about to lose to _Vomit Boy_ of all people, but the best option for her was to drop Crescent Rose, which was a nightmare scenario on its own.

She knew her hand to hand skills stunk. Jaune likely knew it too, given his tactical acumen.

Thus they ended up stumbling back towards the center of the arena, struggling with each other, strength matched against leverage as they fought for control over Crescent Rose. Ruby changed tactics, beginning to angle for another rifle blast into her opponent, Jaune's maneuvering now focused on keeping the large bore pointed anywhere _but _at him. In increasing desperation, Ruby fired off a couple rounds when she thought she had at least a chance of striking Jaune. Neither hit home, but the second had been fired with the muzzle inches from his left ear. He cried out in pain, his ear ringing from proximity to the explosion. His concentration broken, Ruby was able to pivot away from him, bringing both hands in front of her, pulling downward and levering Crescent Rose over her right shoulder.

This proved to be the final straw, the mechanical advantage she had created ripping Crocea Corax from Jaune's grasp, her swing sending the broadsword flying twenty yards away, where its newly-improved blade easily sunk six inches into the arena floor, angled nearly vertically. Her relief was short lived, however, as she felt the edge of Jaune's shield hammer into her spine, knocking her forward and consuming a disconcerting amount of her Aura. On instinct, she manipulated Crescent Rose into a whirling horizontal slash with the blunt back end of the scythe, Jaune dodging back to avoid the hit. What he failed to avoid, however, was the impact on the inside of his overextended shield, Ruby's prowess with her scythe sufficient to generate the force necessary to knock it clear off his arm. The heater shield clattered to the ground a fair distance away, and Ruby continued to spin her weapon for a second strike to finally begin wearing down her now-defenseless opponent.

Knowing his best chance lay in keeping her close, Jaune rushed forward to intercept Ruby's strike by grabbing the shaft of her scythe, reducing the match to a contest of strength once again. Dropping into a low, broad base, Jaune shoved with all the strength he could muster, nearly dislodging her grip before she pushed back with a determined grunt of effort. This effort was seemingly rewarded as the shaft of her scythe moved forward easily, until she realized that Jaune had planned for her counter, yanking back into himself with even more force. Ruby was dragged along for the ride, until her momentum was halted with a vicious headbutt landing on the bridge of her nose. She saw white for the briefest moment, unable to react in time to avoid a knee to the gut, Jaune's strike thankfully not having the proper range to really follow through and drive the wind out of her lungs.

It still hurt like hell.

Desperate now, she kicked off with her feet, using her arms to swing her lower body around over the top of Crescent Rose's shaft, treating the weapon like a pommel horse. Her left knee caromed off the top of the Jaune's skull as she quickly switched hands to walk herself down her weapon in two rotations. Dropping her feet to the ground, Ruby again put her shoulder to work as a fulcrum, freeing her baby from Jaune's tenacious grasp, but paying for it with a brutal, gauntleted punch to the kidneys. She rolled with the impact, just like her sister had taught her, somersaulting forward before she spun about to face her adversary once again.

To her mild relief, Jaune hadn't pressed the attack, but was instead bolting straight for his sword, knowing full well that a newly mobile Ruby Rose was a death sentence for an unarmed Arc. Affording herself a quick glance at the scoreboard closest her line of sight, she was shocked to find her aura hovering just below sixty percent, her opponent a few percentage points lower. Given that he was the tankiest person she knew, and that her archetype was far closer to 'glass cannon', Ruby knew she needed to end this match _now._ Two steps accelerated her to full speed before she augmented this with another blast from Crescent Rose. She smiled inwardly as adrenaline slowed time to a crawl, Jaune's blond hair bouncing slowly with every movement. By her estimation, she would drop him just after he had retrieved his sword, but long before he could turn and mount an effective defense with it, if he could even extricate the blade from its prison.

She could not have been more wrong.

Jaune's hands closed over the hilt of Crocea Corax, but rather than trying to pull, he used it as a pivot point, swinging his body around it like a gymnast, reversing direction into an attempt at a drop kick that due to mistiming resulted instead in an awkward mid-air collision with a wide-eyed Ruby. The both of them tumbled away from the impact, disoriented in the extreme. Jaune wound up on his back, shaking his head to loosen the cobwebs, while the nimble Ruby, adept at dealing with vertigo due to her erratic, whirling combat style, got to her feet far more quickly, leaping back into the fray. With the most adorable battle cry one could imagine, she landed next to Jaune's waist, her bootsoles pinning his sword and hand to the arena floor just before the blunt end of Crescent Rose slammed into his breastplate, its muzzle now pointing directly under his chin.

"Gotcha!" Ruby said with a breathy grin.

"Nope," Jaune favored her with a wry smirk of his own.

Her face immediately fell, confused and slightly offended. "Prof…" she managed to get out before the world exploded.

* * *

"Buh-REW-tal!" Nora cheered enthusiastically as Ruby's head snapped back from Jaune's head butt, Blake and Yang cringing in sympathy behind her as the rest of the class gave a collective _oof_ at the impact.

Ren leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing at the visible flash of light the strike had generated. "Are you seeing this, Pyrrha?" he asked quietly, the veteran arena fighter taking in everything that was going on.

"He's certainly improved," she replied with a burgeoning smile, her emerald green eyes still watching the Aura scoreboard, processing the flow of the match through that lens. "_Suchīrumirā_?" she wondered aloud.

"It appears so," Ren concurred.

"What's that?" Nora asked.

"Aura technique, only rarely taught outside Anima," he said simply, opting to watch the match more closely rather than explain further at the moment.

"I am _sooooo _gonna get her back in the ring," Yang added in irritation at her sister having to tank a kidney punch rather than fight for even a moment without her weapon.

"He's _definitely_ gotten better," Blake added, her previous apprehension forgotten for the moment.

They watched as Jaune reversed direction with the aid of his sword, the collision with Ruby drawing a grunt of discomfort from nearly the entire audience at how chaotic the match had gotten. As Ruby moved to finally end the match in the anticipated outcome, several students had begun to cheer, if for no other reason than seeing Jaune actually doing well for once.

"And that's ballgame, people!" Yang shouted proudly, already contemplating where and how to spend her sixty lien. Her smile faltered as her sister's did, a brief moment of confusion reigning over her as the match somehow wasn't called then and there.

Then, their friends disappeared.

* * *

Red and orange flames blasted outward from the ground at her feet, punctuated by Ruby Rose being launched vertically upward from the fireball. Her limp body tumbled in midair like a ragdoll, arcs of electricity sparking over her form as she reached her apex forty feet above the arena floor. She stirred as she went weightless, hands desperately flailing about until she found a likewise airborne Crescent Rose, clamping down and trying to regain her bearings.

Silver eyes saw Jaune clamber to his feet, staggered by the blast as well, and estimated where she would land. Panic began to creep into her thoughts, and she tamped it down as she saw Jaune set for his next attack, both hands on the hilt of his sword. If she could get the distance right, she'd be able to take down the unshielded Jaune without having to take another hit to her aura, which she could tell without looking was strained at best.

A miniscule use of her semblance later, and she had landed seven feet away from her opponent, four feet further than she otherwise would have. She began her strike as Jaune was already spinning about, his sword describing a wide arc behind him as it accelerated. Adrenaline again distorted Ruby's perception of time, her eyes going wide as Crocea Corax came back into view. The perforated blade was a blaze of color; a nimbus of purple energy sheathed the blade which trailed a plume of fire along its length, sparks popping off like fireworks. That blade was moving a _lot_ faster than she anticipated, but it mattered not, as the Jaune was still too far away for her to be in danger before her own weapon took him off his feet.

She would have sworn so, at least.

* * *

The audience was, for a brief moment, entirely silent. Most, and especially Ruby's older sister, had come to their feet, wide-eyed at the dramatic reversal they were witnessing. Most of the class didn't notice the girl's Semblance use for its brevity, but Yang did, and she began to smile as she recognized her sister's ploy. Crescent Rose began whirling about quickly and ducking low, aiming to put Jaune off balance or knock him down entirely. Jaune's attack seemed reckless by comparison, but was, frankly, visually _stunning_. The light show it provided almost obscured the fact that Crocea Corax was somehow… _bigger_?

_Almost_.

The flame-wreathed blade, now nearly six feet in length, plowed into Ruby's midsection like a runaway train, a discharge of purple energy accenting the impact as she flew backwards twenty yards into the safety barrier, her weapon falling from her grasp as she crumpled to the ground. Jaune was just as stunned as everyone else, and he stared for a full second before the angrily buzzing klaxon broke him out of his reverie.

"Victory, Arc!" Shaw announced, the safety field flickering out of existence.

Everyone outside of Teams JNPR and RWBY were stunned to near silence. Within the two sister teams, emotions ran the gamut.

Nora's grin could power the entertainment district of Vale and _then_ some. Her partner's own smile was subtle, but still a massive show of emotion for the normally placid Ren. Pyrrha could only beam with pride at her first and most important student's success, her green eyes misting over slightly. Behind them, Yang and Blake were likewise stunned, with a healthy dose of terrified for the brutal hits Ruby had taken. Weiss…

Weiss was positively _seething._

* * *

**End of Volume Music**

**Smash Mouth - Defeat You**

**A/N**

**So yeah, I've touched the third rail of RWBY fanfiction: original characters.**

**CMLN were, as I stated, supposed to occupy their own space within the Summer School AU, but ultimately, I couldn't get enough put together for their story to be worth your time reading. They were going to be dealing with smaller things and threats, with an escaped Roman Torchwick as their Big Bad, only having occasional intersections with the main cast. The problem with that approach is that it would have essentially mandated me to write them concurrently, and release those chapters only when everything was ready for **_**both**_ **to be shown, lest I spoil one story with the other since they'd share a timeline.**

**I will concede that their integration was a bit of an odd chapter, and took focus from what is truly a Jaune-centric fic. However, abandoning what work I **_**had**_ **completed, as well as the outlining of both stories being intertwined would have been a bigger problem than just integrating CMLN into the main story. Plus I enjoy the characters themselves.**

**Shaw, on the other hand… we'll be seeing him as a secondary character going forward, something that was absolutely planned beforehand.**

**On Yang: A lot of people have commented in reviews that she seems a little out of character, and they're correct. Beneath the bubbly party girl is someone who nearly lost their sister/borderline **_**daughter**_**, and still hasn't come to terms with that. She also hasn't hit her rock bottom like she did by the end of volume 3, and thus hasn't had to spend the time and effort picking herself up and rebuilding her body and mind into something better and stronger. This fic is going to have a lot of character development for a lot of characters, and I only wish I had the output of some other writers so that this didn't feel like it was dragging.**


End file.
